


Catch Me if You Can

by Janina



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A little bit Emma, A little bit Mansfield Park, A little bit Pride & Prejudice, F/M, Jon is not so passive, Theon is a bit like Reek, regency england
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 34,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4507419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the countryside of Regency England, Jon Snow has been in love with Sansa Stark for as long as he can remember. He wants her as his wife, but Sansa is not sure she wants to be a wife at all, and she knows she doesn’t want to marry the pragmatic and boring Jon. She’d rather help Theon Greyjoy come out of his shell and play matchmaker. But then Jaime Lannister comes to town and Jon finds he has some serious competition for Sansa…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little something I made...
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://s1132.photobucket.com/user/Janina44/media/catch%20me%20if%20you%20can_zpskxqolwcx.jpg.html)  
> 

**Derbyshire, England 1820**

Jon Snow was sipping his afternoon tea when he saw Sansa Stark streak across his property on her horse. He smiled to himself from his balcony as he watched her. Most gentlemen – and definitely the ladies – would find the sight of her most vexing if they were to see her riding astride her horse, hair streaming behind her and not at all pinned up. Jon knew her brother would, and Jon was willing to bet that Robb had no clue what his sister was up to. He was also willing to bet that Sansa could sweet-talk her way out of any lectures Robb would give her on acting like a lady and not a hellion. 

Jon stood up from his chair and called down to one of the footmen buffing his carriage for tonight’s ball at the Starks. “Wilson, ready Orion for me, please?”

Wilson nodded. “Immediately, Mr. Snow.”

Jon had a feeling he knew exactly where Sansa was headed and Jon was determined to find her. 

xxxxxxx

Jon smiled to himself as he came upon Sansa at the pond nestled at the edge of his property. Her horse, Artemis, was grazing and Sansa had her shoes and stockings off and her feet in the pond, her long auburn hair glistened in the sunlight. She turned with a gasp, her blue eyes wide and her cheeks red. She placed a hand over her heart. “Jon, you scared me.”

Jon smiled as he climbed off Orion and hooked his reins on the same branch as Artemis. “I apologize.” 

“Robb will have my head if he knows I’m standing here with my ankles showing,” she told him, and it sounded like a scold.

Jon nodded to where her shoes and stockings were clumped together under the tree. “Would you like me to fetch them for you?”

“What good will that do if my feet are wet?”

“Then perhaps you should come out of the water and sit with me a while until your feet dry and you can put them back on.”

She frowned at him. “Did you see me ride by, Jon?”

“You know I did.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And you decided to come and find me?”

“You know how difficult I find it to stay away from you,” he said, only half teasing. 

She pursed her lips together. She was displeased with him. Though, to be fair, she was often displeased with him.

“I came out here to get away from all the commotion,” she told him. “To be alone,” she added pointedly. 

“I can be quiet and give you the illusion that you’re alone.”

She sighed wearily. 

“I take it Robb and Talisa are preparing for the ball tonight?” Jon asked.

“Yes,” Sansa said. 

“Will you save me a dance, Sansa?”

She smirked. “Perhaps.”

He placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me.”

She laughed and Jon smiled at the sound. He loved her laugh. 

He loved _her_. 

And soon, he was going to have a discussion with Robb about it. He wanted Sansa for his wife, had wanted it for a long time and though she often grew irritated with him, Jon chalked it up to the fact that they’d known each other all their lives. His family and theirs had been a lifelong friends, and Jon and Robb had often tooled around together. They had also been there to support one another. Jon’s mother had died when he was young, and his father had died just five years before from a heart attack. Two years after his father’s death, Lord Ned and Lady Catelyn had perished in a carriage accident. 

As Jon had gone on to inherit his family’s estate and land, so had Robb inherited his family’s estate and land, not to mention his father’s barony. He married quickly, a love match as it was, and she seemed to be well liked. 

Jon and The Starks were neighbors and so it wasn’t strange for Jon to find himself meandering over to their home for a quick visit, or for Robb to meander over to Jon’s for one. Sansa rarely came by, and when she did she always had a purpose in mind. And once that purpose was filled she was done and on her way again. 

Jon knew he wasn’t the most exciting gentleman in Derbyshire – he was a bachelor that lived alone and spent most of his time on the upkeep of his estate and lands. He didn’t have Sansa’s same joie de vivre, but they had a good repoire when she allowed herself to have fun with him. 

“Jon, have you met the new family yet? The Greyjoys?” she asked curiously. 

“I have not. Should I have?”

“Robb met them the other day. He’s invited them to our ball tonight. He tells me their son, Theon Greyjoy, seems to be a bit shy.”

“Lady Sansa – are you gossiping?”

“How can I be accused of gossip if the gossip is brought to me?” she asked. “In any case, I plan to introduce Mr. Theon Greyjoy to as many people as I can.”

“Don’t you think you should let him be if he’s shy?” Jon asked. 

Sansa pursed her lips together. “No. He just needs to meet the right group of people.” She bit her lip thoughtfully and Jon could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. He came down to where she was and said softly, “Sansa, leave the man be.”

“I only wish to help him make friends, Jon.”

“Perhaps you should let these things happen naturally?”

Sansa rolled her eyes and trudged up to where her stockings and shoes were. She sat down and unfurled her stockings and looked at him pointedly. “Can you not look, please?”

Jon sighed and turned around. He could hear the rustling of silk and his mind wandered to the day he might be able to perform such a task – though he’d prefer taking them off her rather than putting them back on her. 

“You may turn around now, Jon,” she said primly after a few minutes. Her stockings and shoes were on and she was unwinding Artemis’s reins from the branch. “Oh, bloody hell. Your reins and mine are tangled,” she muttered. 

Jon came over to help her and as always when he was close to Sansa, he inhaled her lavender scent deeply. He wanted to bury his face in her hair, in her neck…between her legs…

“Let me help,” he said and set about untangling the reins. When he was done he handed her hers and their fingers brushed as she took it from him. 

He wondered if she felt it. The same jolt of awareness that he felt whenever her fingers would so much as brush his. If she did, she gave no indication. She looked up at him and smiled. “Good day, Jon. I will see you tonight.”

Jon smiled at her. “I will be looking for that dance, Sansa.”

She grinned as she climbed atop Artemis. “Let me know if you find it,” she said and was off. 

xxxxxxxx

“There you are,” Robb said as Sansa strolled into the house. “Talisa was looking for you.”

“Oh? What did she need?”

“Your advice on some flower arrangements. She has since made a decision.”

Sansa smiled. “Judging by your tone I’d say she asked your opinion instead.”

“Yes, and then promptly went with the opposite of what I said.”

“Ah, that was smart.”

Robb shot her a look, but his blue eyes were dancing with mirth. “Where did you get off to, imp?”

“Oh, around.”

“The pond?”

“Of course. I felt the need to escape the madness of ball preparation.”

“I can’t say as I blame you, but since I am shit at making decisions for these things, I would ask you to keep yourself near for Talisa, please?”

Sansa sighed and nodded. She leaned up, kissed her brother’s cheek, and then ruffled his auburn curly locks before hurrying off to find her sister-in-law. 

“Have I ever told you you’re my favorite sister?” Robb called after her. 

Sansa turned at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the ballroom and bedchambers and smirked. “If Arya was here you’d say the same to her.”

“Doubtful. Arya would have hidden in the stables and mucked out a few stalls just to avoid the preparations _and_ the ball.”

Sansa laughed. “Yes, probably. And taken Bran with her!” She hurried up the stairs and ignored Robb shouting after her and telling her to slow down. He was always telling her to slow down. 

If Arya had been there, he probably would have been telling her the same. Robb needed to be big brother to someone, and since his other two siblings were off on their Grand Tour together, it fell on Sansa. She supposed it was quite a nuisance for Robb how she ignored him all the time. 

Sansa found Talisa in the ballroom looking a bit tired and uncertain. All around her servants bustled from one place to another setting up potted plants, chairs, and the flower arrangements. Sansa came up beside Talisa to see what she was looking at. From what Sansa could ascertain, it was the refreshment table with the large flower arrangement of daisies and day lilies in the middle. 

“It looks beautiful,” Sansa told her. 

Talisa looked at her in relief. “Oh, thank goodness you’ve returned. Do you really think so? Because I was thinking that maybe I should have chosen the one Robb liked – it had lavender and heather in it.”

“No, we can’t let him think he’s right about anything, Talisa, I’ve told you. That is perfect.”

Talisa smiled. “The poor man has enough to deal with without us giving him a hard time.”

“Poor man indeed. He’s the most doted on man in Derbyshire. He’ll live.”

Talisa laughed. “Will you stay and help me, Sansa?”

“Even better, why don’t you go and rest? You’ll be down for the count before the ball even begins at this rate. I can handle it from here.” Though she really didn’t want to. However, this was important to Talisa and considering how worn she looked already, it was the least Sansa could do for escaping for a bit. 

Talisa looked like she might kiss Sansa’s feet in thanks. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, positive. Just promise me you’ll have Robb introduce me to Theon Greyjoy later.”

Talisa smiled. “Done.” And then she hurried off as though Sansa might take back her offer. With a sigh, Sansa plunged into the fray.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!

As soon as Jon entered the Stark ballroom, he looked for Sansa. He found her chatting with Mrs. Jeyne Westerling and Lady Margaery Tyrell, both good friends of hers. Tonight, Sansa wore green and it made her auburn hair appear darker and her blue eyes pop. She looked stunning, but then Jon always thought so. 

When she caught him looking her way, she nodded and smiled at him cordially and Jon nodded to the dance floor and looked at her pointedly. She rolled her eyes and turned away and Jon grinned. 

He made his way over to Robb and Talisa and said hello, complimented Talisa’s dress, and then stayed put. He was not fond of balls. He rather hated them actually. The only reason he came was because it was Robb putting it on, and it was an opportunity to have Sansa in his arms while they danced. 

“Are you planning on dancing with our girl tonight, Mr. Snow?” Talisa asked from behind her fan with a grin. 

“If I can pin her down long enough for one,” Jon said. “And please call me Jon, Lady Talisa.”

“Only if you drop the ‘Lady’ bit.”

“Done.”

Robb looked over at them with an arched brow. “What are you two whispering about over here?”

“I was just telling Jon I wanted to run away with him,” Talisa said. “Nothing to worry about, dear.”

“Oh, is that all?” Robb said with a smile. Something at the door caught his eye and he said, “Ah, the Greyjoys have arrived.”

Jon’s eyes snapped to the door to get a gander at Sansa’s new project: Mr. Theon Greyjoy. His eyes narrowed at the man as he was announced. He did look rather shy. Painfully so. His head was down, and his sandy blond locks were in his face so Jon couldn’t even see his face, and it almost appeared as though he had a hunchback from the way he stood. His suit hung off him a bit loose as though he’d lost a few stones and hadn’t managed to tailor his suit accordingly. 

Not surprisingly, Sansa appeared beside them immediately. She looked eagerly at Mr. Theon Greyjoy as he and his parents approached Robb and Talisa. Jon maneuvered himself beside her. Not that she noticed or cared. 

Robb made the introductions to Talisa, Sansa, and Jon to Theon’s parents first, and then came their son. Theon barely looked up at them. He had sharp cheekbones, blue-gray eyes, a thin mouth and a pointed nose. When he saw Sansa, he did a double take. Jon sighed. She had that effect on men, though she was not aware of it. 

Sansa beamed at him and Jon wondered if she’d start rubbing her hands together conspiratorially next. Yes, Theon Greyjoy was her new project. This was confirmed when Sansa said to him, “Mr. Greyjoy, might I introduce you to some friends of mine?” Meanwhile, she waved across the room to Jeyne and Margaery who had apparently been lying in wait for her. They hurried over. Jeyne looked curious, Margaery looked wary. Jon was with Margaery. 

Theon looked about ready to bolt. Jon felt bad for the poor man. He wasn’t good in new situations himself, and definitely not good with people. When Jon chose to come to a ball he stuck by those he knew and stayed by them all night. That was usually the Starks. So, Jon felt the man who looked as though he wanted to jump out the nearest window. This caused Jon to do something he never did. He interfered. 

Jon slapped a hand on the man’s back. “Mr. Greyjoy, hello, my name is Jon Snow. Would you like a beverage?” 

Theon looked at him with wide eyes that said ‘Help me’. Sansa looked at Jon with eyes that said ‘Go away’. 

“Yes, please, Mr. Snow,” Theon croaked. 

Anyone that croaked like that needed some saving from Sansa and her machinations. Though she wasn’t about to be put off. As Jon led the way to the refreshment table, Sansa followed behind them and her cronies after her. 

Theon mumbled his thanks to Jon, grabbed a lemonade, and then disappeared in the crush. No doubt looking for a dark corner or a potted plant to hind behind. Sansa planted herself in front of Jon and glared at him. 

“Leave him be, Sansa,” Jon said. “He doesn’t need you swooping in and terrifying him.”

“I am not—”

“Yes, you are. Your heart is in the right place, but your actions leave a lot to be desired.”

“How dare—”

“Ah, a waltz! Shall we dance, mi’lady?” He didn’t wait for her to answer him. Instead, he swept her up in his arms and charged with her onto the dance floor. 

“Honestly, Jon, must you be so uncouth?” Sansa grumbled as she put her hand over his shoulder. 

Jon clasped her hand in his as he swept her around the dance floor and he pulled her a little closer with the arm he had around her. “Must you be so stubborn?”

She lifted her chin and looked away from him and he grinned. She probably didn’t realize she was proving him right, the stubborn chit. 

“Come now, Sansa, do you plan to pout our entire dance?” 

She looked at him. “Yes.”

“It’s not very seemly. What would Mr. Greyjoy think? You’re the one that wishes to bring him out of his shell and be his social guide and yet you look so forlorn? So melancholy?”

The corners of her mouth twitched and Jon knew she was trying not to smile. Finally, she looked at him and said, “We need to find you a hobby, Jon Snow.”

“A hobby, really? I thought my hobby was keeping you out of trouble, Lady Sansa.”

“I need no such help. What do you say I set you up with a fine young lady as I did Robb?”

Good God. She was dense. Or deliberately ignoring him and what he thought were not so subtle cues to how he felt. Knowing Sansa, it was the latter. 

“I do not need you to play matchmaker for me, Sansa,” he told her, dropping his voice low. “I already know whom I wish to be my wife.”

She was ignoring him as she looked everywhere but at him. “What do you think of the Lady Val?”

“Sansa,” he said on a sigh. He saw the balcony doors in sight. He twirled her in that direction. 

She caught on seconds before he twirled her out the doors what he was about. “Oh, Jon, don’t,” she said. 

Jon didn’t like her tone. Didn’t like how she sounded as though she was already preparing to let him down. 

He pulled her with him to a secluded area and clasped her hands in his. “Sansa, I know you must know by now what it is I want, or rather who I want.”

“It is only because you haven’t tried to get on with anyone else. I’m just convenient for you because of our families.”

Jon shook his head. “Convenience suggests that this might be easy. There is nothing easy about you, Sansa. You know how I feel, how I’ve always felt, and you deliberately ignore it – ignore me.”

“You must know that we’re not compatible.”

Not compatible? That sparked Jon’s ire. How could she say such a thing? She had to feel the charge in the air when they were together. He could not be alone in this. He just couldn’t. 

So, Jon did the only thing he could think – and what he’d wanted to do for some time now. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. She gasped against his mouth and Jon used the opportunity to slip his tongue across her parted lips. 

She could protest all she wanted – and Jon knew she would – but she kissed him back. And if the way she balled the front of his tailcoat in her hands was any indication, she felt something, too. 

She tasted like lemonade and something uniquely Sansa, Jon thought he could drink from her lips forever. He deepened the kiss as he wrapped one arm around her waist and drew her even closer. She broke the kiss with a gasp. “Jon, no.”

“Yes,” he growled and kissed her again. “You feel it too, dammit. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

She pushed away from him. “I don’t.” But she was lying. Her hand trembled as she moved it up to smooth her hair in its chignon. One’s hand didn’t tremble like that if they felt nothing. 

“You lie,” he said lowly. 

Her gaze snapped to his and now she looked determined. He pursed his lips together. He knew that look all too well, and he knew what it meant. If he pushed, she’d fight him at every turn and it would not be pretty. Sansa may have her younger sister beat when it came to being strong-willed. 

“You’ll ruin my reputation carrying on in this manner,” she scolded him. “You know better. Think of what Robb would say.”

“I don’t give a bloody damn what Robb would say,” he snapped. He could be stubborn, too. He just needed the right cause to be so, and as it turned out, Sansa turning him down was it. 

“I’m going back inside,” she told him. “Wait a while before doing the same.”

She marched off before he could stop her. His hands fisted at his sides and he thought he might just go after her or demand to speak to Robb and ask for her hand now, but Jon knew that he couldn’t do either. He wouldn’t ruin her reputation and he wouldn’t force her to marry him. 

When Sansa became his wife it would be because she wanted to be. Jon just had to make sure she wanted it.


	3. Chapter 3

“Did you have fun last night, dearest?” Robb asked Sansa the next morning over a late luncheon. 

Sansa thought of Jon’s kiss and how her heart had raced and her skin had tingled. Then she thought of how she’d spent the rest of the night trying to avoid him, and how every time she would glance his way – discreetly of course – she would find him looking at her. 

She also thought of how she had tried in vain to find Theon again. She had decided to employ a subtler approach, but she could not find the blasted man anywhere. 

“It was all right,” she said and sipped her chocolate. 

“I saw you and Jon danced once,” Talisa said.

Sansa suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She was well aware of how her family felt about her and Jon. She applied herself to discouraging them from the notion. “We did.” She put her cup down and looked at Robb inquiringly. “Robb, do you think you’ll pay the Greyjoys a visit?”

Robb frowned. “Don’t tell me you prefer that poor sod Theon to Jon.”

“I prefer no one,” Sansa said primly. “I simply wish to befriend him. He looks ever so lost.”

“And you wish to help him,” Robb said with a sigh. He rubbed his forehead. “Sansa…”

“Robb, don’t you think it’s a kindness that Sansa wishes to befriend Mr. Greyjoy?” Talisa said. “He does look in need of some friends. His parents don’t seem to know what to do with him.”

“Frankly, I think they’ve washed their hands of him,” Robb muttered. 

“I can help,” Sansa said. “I know I can.” And if she had decided that perhaps Jon was right in not surrounding him with too many people at once, well, she wasn’t about to tell him she thought he was right. 

She thought of the kiss again. 

Blast!

“Perhaps we could pay them a visit, Sansa? Robb visited them but neither of us did. We could take them some treacle tarts,” Talisa suggested. 

Sansa beamed. Robb sighed. He knew when he was outnumbered and defeated. 

xxxxxxxxx

“Ah, there you are,” Jon said to Robb as he let himself into the study. Robb was hunched over some papers and when he saw Jon, he sighed and pushed them away. 

“I needed a break,” he told Jon. “Perfect timing for a visit. Would you like to play a quick game of cards or—”

“I kissed your sister last night.”

Robb sat back in his chair. “I see we’re just going to get right to it then.” He then got to his feet looking like a veritable thundercloud. “You kissed my sister?!”

Jon held up his hands. “Robb, listen. You know how I feel about Sansa.”

“That’s not the point, Jon. You can’t go kissing her in public places where people could see—”

“Refresh me – wasn’t it you who kissed Talisa in the library during a ball for the first time?”

Robb glared at him. “Talisa isn’t my sister.”

“She’s still a young lady whose reputation could have been ruined.”

“Why are you telling me this as a confession if you’re just going to defend your reasons for doing it?”

Jon sighed. “I wish to marry your sister.”

“I already figured that was coming. You know I approve. If there is any man I would wish to see with Sansa, it’s you. But it’s not me you have to convince.”

“Trust me, I am well aware of whom I need to convince.”

“So, should I take this as a formal declaration of your intentions? Do you wish to court Sansa?”

Jon nodded. “I do, but I can’t go about it in the usual way, Robb. If I show up here asking her to go on carriage rides and picnics she’ll turn me down flat.”

Robb’s eyes narrowed. “Then how do you plan to court her in the…unusual way?”  
“I will visit as I usually do, but more often, attend to her at balls – dancing, fetching refreshments and the like. I just cannot make it known that I am courting her.”

“I see. You do not think Sansa will figure something is amiss if you start coming around even more?”

“Perhaps, but that is fine with me. I just need to…to get under her skin.”

Robb chuckled. “I think you already are. You quite vex her at times.”

Jon grinned. “I know. As she does me. Do I have your consent to court your sister in a non-conventional way?”

“As long as no further liberties are taken,” Robb said warningly. 

“Of course,” Jon lied. There would be as many liberties taken as Sansa would allow. Kissing her had been a revelation last night. She was not immune to him at all and her reaction to him had proven that. “May I ask where she is now?”

Robb sat back down. “She and Talisa have gone to the Greyjoys.”

Jon sighed. “Bloody hell.”

“Indeed. She has determined that Theon Greyjoy is in dire need of a friend and she is applying herself to that end most heartily. They left about an hour ago with a basket of treacle tarts.”

“Well, at least she hasn’t brought along Mrs. Westerling and Lady Margaery this time. Perhaps she learned her lesson from last night.”

Robb snorted. “Does Sansa ever learn her lesson? Or does she just adjust her course?”

Jon grinned. “She’ll keep my on my toes, that’s for sure.”

Robb arched a brow. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Jon. You speak as if you are already sure you’ll wed her. I love my sister, and I love you, but in the end I will not force Sansa down the aisle. It has to be her choice.”

“Then I shall apply _myself_ most heartily to making her want to wed me.”

Robb snorted. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

xxxxxxx  
Sansa didn’t think it boded well for her making friends with Theon when upon asking his parents if she and Talisa could speak with him as well said, “Theon? You wish to speak to Theon? Truly?”

Mrs. Greyjoy, a petite and stout woman had the air of someone kind yet Sansa got the distinct impression that she could be a bit tough as well. Mr. Greyjoy on the other hand was quite frank and direct. He seemed to be of the mind that his son was a disappointment and there was no hope for him. For that matter, Mrs. Greyjoy seemed to be of that mind as well. 

This just made Sansa all the more determined. 

When Theon finally came down to see them, he looked a bit afraid as he looked at Sansa and then Talisa. His gaze then rested on the floor. His clothes hung loose on him again, and he stood hunched over as though trying to make himself as small as possible. 

“Mr. Greyjoy,” Sansa said to Theon, “you have a lovely garden in the back. Might you show it to me?”

“Mrs. Greyjoy,” Talisa then said, “Would you please show me those botany books you were telling me about last night?”

Theon gulped and darted a look at his mother who nodded in encouragement. He then looked at Sansa’s nose when he replied in a mumble. “Of course, Lady Sansa.”

Sansa smiled. Now perhaps they would get somewhere.

“I’ll follow you out onto the veranda,” Mr. Greyjoy muttered. 

Theon shuffled his feet on the gravel path that wound about the topiaries in the back of the estate. Sansa darted a glance at him and for once felt at a loss for words. Wouldn’t Jon be ever so surprised to hear that? 

And why was she thinking about Jon again? Double blast!

“So, how do you like Derbyshire, Mr. Greyjoy?” Sansa asked. 

“It’s nice,” he mumbled. 

“I, uh, wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. It’s just that I wanted to…well, I wanted to help you make friends. I imagine it must be lonely to move to a new place and not know anyone.”

“I prefer to be alone,” he said. “I don’t do well with people.”

“Why, do you suppose, is that?”

His brow furrowed. “Just look at me. My father says I’m a mess. I agree.”

Sansa stopped and Theon stopped a few paces ahead of her when he realized she wasn’t beside him any longer. He looked at her in question. 

“You are not a mess,” Sansa said. “You just…”

“Yes?”

“Need some assistance.”

Theon snorted. 

Sansa marched up to him. “Will you do me a favor, Mr. Greyjoy?”

He looked at her wearily. “What is the favor?”

“Stand up straight. You’re all hunched over like you’re trying to make yourself small and unseen.”

“I am,” he said honestly. 

“Do you believe you’ve nothing to offer?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, that’s silly talk,” Sansa said dismissively. “What are your interests? What sorts of things do you like to learn about? What hobbies have you got?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, like my mother I too am interested in botany. I can name all the flowers and herbs in our garden and tell you their medicinal purposes. I am also interested in biology. I have taken frogs and…” he cleared his throat again. “And those are things not fit for a lady’s ears. My mother would box mine if she heard me talking about that.”

“Do you realize what just happened, Mr. Greyjoy?” Sansa asked with a smile. 

He frowned. “No.”

“When you were talking about your interests, your gait completely changed. You stood up, your voice became clearer. There was a light in your eyes.”

He looked bewildered. “I did?”

She smiled. “Yes. I’ve an idea.”

“Yes?”

“Perhaps you could visit me at my home and teach me about the plants and herbs we have? I would love to learn about making salves and tinctures. Could you teach me that?”

Theon chewed on his bottom lip. “You truly want me to teach you all that?”

“I truly do,” she said. 

“Perhaps first we could start here? In my garden?”

Sansa smiled. “Of course.”

xxxxxxxx

Jon watched with a smile as Sansa sailed outside onto the veranda and planted a kiss on her brother’s cheek with Talisa in tow. She stopped when she saw Jon, who had stood when he saw her. He swore her cheeks reddened. 

“Hello, Jon,” she said a bit stiffly. 

“Hello, Sansa,” he said and bowed to her. “How was your visit?”

“Yes, have you given Theon Greyjoy a bit of the vapors by speaking with him?” Robb asked as he reached out to take Talisa’s hand in his. 

“No,” Sansa said. “In fact, I found a topic of interest to speak to him about and you’ll be surprised to learn that he spoke at length and with much enthusiasm. I will be returning in a few days and he’ll be teaching Talisa and me how to make salves and tinctures.”

“Never underestimate the determination of the Starks,” Talisa said. 

“I should like to amend that to never underestimate the determination of Sansa,” Jon said. “So you found an interest of his and used that as your means to connect with him. What a progressive concept.”

Sansa shot him a look and he grinned. 

“If you’ll excuse me. I do believe I’ll fetch my book and find a nice quiet place to read,” Sansa said. 

Jon watched her go and then looked at Robb who just nodded and said, “No liberties.”

Jon went after Sansa and managed to catch up to her in the drawing room. Jon shut the door behind him and Sansa looked up, startled. “Jon, what are you about?”

Jon moved slowly in her direction. “I wondered if you’ve given any thought to our kiss last night.”

She waved a hand and her eyes darted across the room. “Oh, that,” she said with a dismissive wave. “Twas nothing.”

She lied. And not very well. “Indeed,” he said and stopped when he was right in front of her. “And you felt nothing.”

“Nothing at all.”

“I’m not sure I believe you,” he murmured and reached out his hand to her. 

She started away. “What are you doing?”

He looked at her innocently. “I merely wished to see what it is you’re reading.”

She held up the book. “Byron.”

“That peacock?”

“That ‘peacock’ is a bloody brilliant poet, Mr. Snow.”

“Not to mention a philanderer that had relations with his half-sister, Lady Sansa.”

Her smile was sickly sweet. “I thought well-bred gentlemen such as yourself didn’t speak of such things in the company of ladies.”

“I think we’ve known each other long enough to not have to stand on such proprieties,” he said and ran his fingertips down her bare arm. She shivered and yanked her arm away. “Speaking of propriety…no gloves?”

“I took them off when I arrived home,” she said and lifted her chin. 

“Works for me. Your skin is like satin and—”

“And that is quite enough, Mr. Snow.” She marched away from him. 

He turned and called out, “Are we standing on the proprieties then after all? What is this Mr. Snow business?”

She turned and looked at him. “I will call you Mr. Snow in the hopes that you will remember yourself, sir.”

His frown was fake. “I see. Well then, perhaps since you are overly fond of projects, I could be one.”

She blinked. “Pardon?”

“I seem to have forgotten how one goes about being a gentleman, and you seem to be versed in how one should behave. So then, perhaps tomorrow I’ll come for tea in the afternoon and you can refresh me on how a gentleman takes tea with a lady?”

He started for her as she was trying to piece together what he’d just done. She opened her mouth to speak and then clamped it shut as he approached. “I shall see you on the morrow then, my lady? Say, two o’ clock?” She gaped at him and Jon smiled. “Till then, Lady Sansa.” And then he grabbed her hand gently, kissed the back of it, bowed, and then departed before she could stop him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't write for a couple days and I feel a bit out of rhythm with the story. Hopefully this doesn't suck too much.

Jon arrived at exactly two for tea. Sansa was on her way in from the gardens when she saw him passing off his top hat to the butler. 

“You were serious,” she said in astonishment. 

Jon looked up at her. “Did you think I was bamming you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“I assure you I was not. I take it there is no tea then?”

She frowned. “Well, no, but that’s easy enough to—”

“What do you say we go for a ride into town instead then?”

She stared at him. “You want to go for a ride.”

“Yes,” he said and ambled over to her. 

“Into town.”

He smiled and tapped her on the nose. “Yes.”

“So, we’ll not be having tea then?”

“We can always have it in town.”

“At Lily’s Tea Shoppe?” she asked, her lips curling up into a smile.

“I’ll even get you one of those cinnamon scones you like so much.”

She beamed at him. “That does sound rather nice. Let me see if Robb and Talisa are available to join us.”

Jon stayed her with a hand on her arm. “No, Sansa, just us.”

“Just us?”

He nodded. “Just us.”

“I’ll have to take my maid with me. I can’t go without a chaperone.”

“Yes, yes, of course. That’s fine.”

Sansa looked at him in confusion. “Something is afoot, Jon Snow.”

“Am I no longer Mr. Snow then?”

She eyed him warily. “That remains to be seen I suppose.”

He chucked her under the chin. “Shall we?”

She pursed her lips together and nodded. “Let me just grab my bonnet.”

“I’ll be waiting by the carriage.”

xxxxxx

Jon wasn’t blind to the way Sansa kept looking at him as they drove into town. He also wasn’t blind to the way she kept herself as far away from him as possible. 

“I don’t bite, Sansa,” he said. “At least not hard anyway.”

She arched a brow at him. “Mr. Snow, I do not believe you should say such things to a lady.”

“We’re back to Mr. Snow then, are we?”

“Yes. You’re being incorrigible.”

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit more about your visit with Mr. Greyjoy yesterday,” Jon said.

She started to tell him about her conversation with Theon in the gardens when they came upon the bridge over the stream and found a man standing there, his carriage overturned and in the water. 

He was tall, blond, blue-eyed, and dressed impeccably though looked a bit worse for wear. His clothes were dusty and his top hat had been crushed. When he saw them he waved his arms in the air. 

Jon pulled on the reins and his horses came to a stop. He nodded to the gentleman. “It appears you’ve run into a bit of bad luck.”

The man nodded. “Quite. My horses were spooked. The reins gave way and I jumped from the carriage before I really hurt myself. My horses have since run off.” He looked at Sansa and smiled before continuing. “Would you be so kind as to give me a ride into town so that I may procure a carriage and a new set of horses?”

“May I ask the name of the man I am to help?” Jon inquired. 

The man bowed. “Jaime Lannister, at your service.”

“Jon Snow,” Jon said. “Though I believe I am at your service not the other way around.” He gestured to Sansa. “Mr. Lannister, may I present Lady Sansa?”

Sansa held out her hand and Jaime kissed the back of her hand and bowed over it. He grinned at her. “Charmed, Lady Sansa.”

Jon shifted in his seat. He didn’t like the way Mr. Lannister looked at his Sansa. And he didn’t much like the way Sansa couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. She immediately scooted over closer to Jon to allow Mr. Lannister to sit beside her. He wasn’t sure this was entirely appropriate, but he also knew he couldn’t very well leave the man behind either. 

Jon snapped his reins to get his horses moving and as they ambled over the bridge he heard Sansa ask Mr. Lannister if he had family in Derbyshire. 

“No, actually, I’ve acquired a home for the summer,” Mr. Lannister replied. “King’s Landing. Have you heard of it?”

“Oh, of course we have,” Sansa said. “It is a beautiful estate, or at least it was until the previous owner passed on. Is it hospitable, Mr. Lannister?”

“I’ve made arrangements for it to be. I was on my way there when I ran into my spot of bad luck,” Mr. Lannister replied. “I hope this isn’t an omen of things to come.”

Sansa shook her head. “No, I don’t believe so. Derbyshire is a wonderful place, and I am sure you’ll find yourself right at home. Do you mind my asking where you are from originally?”

“London, Lady Sansa. My family is still there. I, well, I broke away from the pack as it were.”

Sansa smiled at him and Jon’s gut twisted. “Welcome to Derbyshire, Mr. Lannister.”

“Thank you, Lady Sansa. If everyone is as kind and sweet as you I’m sure I should have no trouble fitting right in.”

Sansa beamed at him and Jon wondered if it was too late to order Mr. Lannister out of his carriage. Thankfully, they were almost into town. Even Sansa’s arm occasionally brushing his didn’t make up for the fact that there was something in the way Sansa looked at Mr. Lannister that unsettled Jon. Plus, if her arm was rubbing against his due to the jostling of the carriage, that meant her other arm was occasionally rubbing against Mr. Lannister’s too. 

“What induced you to leave London?” Jon asked. 

“Jon, that might be personal,” Sansa scolded quietly.

“No, no, it’s quite all right, Lady Sansa,” Mr. Lannister said. “I’ve left London because I am weary of the city. My family has a townhouse _near_ the country, but not quite _in_ the country during the off Season. I hoped to perhaps settle in to Derbyshire and make it my summer home.”

“I live with my brother, Lord Robb and his wife, Lady Talisa,” Sansa told him. “I will be sure to encourage him to visit you at King’s Landing, Mr. Lannister. Tell me, do you like lemon tarts?” 

“I do,” Mr. Lannister said with a grin. 

“Then I should be happy to bring some over for you. They’re my favorite treat.”

“Mine too,” Mr. Lannister said. 

All right. That was it. Jon had had enough. Good thing they’d arrived in town. 

He pulled on the reins sharply and sent a silent apology to his horses. He pointed down the lane. “If you head down that way, Mr. Lannister, you’ll find what you need at the Wilton’s.”

“Would you like us to walk you down to the Wilton’s, Mr. Lannister?” Sansa asked. 

“I’m quite certain I can find it just fine, Lady Sansa,” Mr. Lannister said as he alighted down from the carriage. He bowed. “Thank you for you hospitality, Mr. Snow.”

Jon inclined his head but said nothing. Sansa nudged him with her elbow but still he said nothing. Then Sansa scooted away from Jon and began to climb down. Jon sprang into action to help her, but Mr. Lannister was already extending a hand and helping her down. She blushed and then smiled up at him. “I will see you soon, Mr. Lannister. God speed.”

“I look forward to seeing you again, Lady Sansa,” Mr. Lannister said lowly and kissed her hand. “Good day.”

Sansa watched him go while Jon climbed down from the carriage and tied his horses to the nearby post outside the tea shoppe. 

“Are you quite done making moon eyes at Mr. Lannister, Sansa?” Jon growled. 

Sansa turned and looked at him with a frown. “I am not making moon eyes.”

“You most certainly were. I daresay you were flirting with him, too.”

“Jon, I was being hospitable; I wasn’t flirting.” She started for the shoppe and Jon followed after her. 

Jon was about to tell her he had half a mind to tell Robb about her flirting when she clutched at his arm and pointed to the display of treats behind the counter. “Oh, Jon, they have lemon scones! Will you get one for me?”

He looked down at her as she smiled up at him in excitement and just like that, Jon forgot all about being upset with her. She had him wrapped around those delicate fingers of hers and damn it all to hell if he didn’t care. 

Well, not _too_ much anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

When Jon stopped by the Winterfell estate the following afternoon to perhaps take another carriage ride with Sansa, he discovered that Sansa was currently visiting the Greyjoys with Talisa for a botany lesson. 

“I apologize, Jon,” Robb said and waved for Jon to follow him to the veranda where he asked one of the maids passing by for some tea. The two sat down together and Robb told him that he expected Sansa and Talisa to arrive home soon. “How was your carriage ride yesterday?” Robb asked, his fingers steepled together in front of his chest. 

“Did Sansa tell you what happened on our way into town?” Jon asked. 

“About Mr. Jaime Lannister? Yes. It was all she could talk about.”

Jon frowned. “Is that so?”

“I’d have a care for your feelings by not telling you that she went on and on about him last night over dinner and again over breakfast, but you’re not so delicate that you can’t handle it.”

Jon sighed. “No, I suppose I’m not but it doesn’t please me to hear.”

“I didn’t think it would, but I thought since I am firmly on your side I would warn you. She has asked me to pay him a visit on the morrow and welcome him to Derbyshire.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her I would. Of course she and Talisa plan to accompany me.”

“Tell me again whose side you’re on?” Jon demanded. 

“Well, in all fairness she is my sister and quite hard to dissuade once she’s made up her mind about something.”

“Don’t I know it,” Jon muttered. 

“And then she gets my Talisa on her side so easily…” Robb sighed. “You must marry my sister so that I will not be so outvoted in my own house. You’d think Sansa was the Lord of the estate, not me.” Robb cocked his head to the side. “You do know what you’ll be getting yourself into if she agrees to marry you?”

Jon smiled. “I’m aware.”

“My sister means well, but she does need a firm hand, Jon.”

“I know, Robb.”

“Although not too firm.” Robb pointed at his friend. “You hurt her and I do not care one whit about how long we’ve been friends, I will beat you.”

Jon nodded. “Yes, I know.”

“So, you’ll be joining us then to see Mr. Lannister?”

Jon grinned. “Of course.”

Talisa came bustling out onto the veranda then followed by Sansa. She arched a brow at Jon as he and Robb stood to greet the ladies. 

“And how was the botany lesson?” Robb asked as he kissed his wife hello on the cheek. 

“Mr. Greyjoy is very knowledgeable,” Talisa replied. 

Sansa kissed Robb’s other cheek and sat down beside him. “We made a poultice that should be ready in a few days.”

“A few days?” Jon asked as he sat back down. 

“Mr. Greyjoy insisted it needed time to…ferment?” She frowned. “No, that’s not the right word. Talisa, do you remember what he said?”

Talisa shook her head. “He spoke so quickly I wished I had taken notes.”

“And how often did he stutter?” Robb asked. 

Sansa pursed her lips together and looked at him disapprovingly. “That’s not very nice, Robb. Mr. Greyjoy, when speaking about something that interests him, can talk confidently and at length.”

“Leave it to Sansa to find what those interests are,” Jon commented.

“At least I took the time to care what they were,” Sansa said and lifted her chin. 

“Robb, I was hoping to show you something in our garden that Mr. Greyjoy showed us,” Talisa said. “Will you join me?”

“Of course, darling,” Robb said and stood, holding out his hand to his wife. 

Sansa looked up at Talisa with interest. “What is it you wish to show him?”

Talisa darted a look at Robb and then Jon and finally said, “I wish to show him where we might put a row of the herbs Mr. Greyjoy suggested we have on hand.”

Sansa seemed satisfied with that and sat back. 

Jon hid a smile. Seemed Talisa was on his side as well. 

Robb and Talisa walked off just as the tea arrived. Sansa stood and looked over at Jon. “Would you like some tea, Jon?”

“Yes, please.”

He watched her pour and put in the two lumps of sugar just as he liked it. He knew she took hers with two lumps of sugar and milk. He imagined being married to her, how they could spend leisurely mornings in bed making love and emerge to break their fast and take their tea. He imagined pulling her onto his lap as they took their tea and kissing the curve of her neck…

She sat back down and sipped her tea. “Jon, I’ve been thinking.”

“Yes, dearest?”

She frowned. “You shouldn’t call me such things.”

“What is it you’ve been thinking?”

“I think you should throw a ball.”

He sighed. “Sansa, you know I despise them.”

“Yes, I know, but we just had one and I don’t think Robb would go for another one so quickly.”

“What is the great push for another ball? So you can see Mr. Lannister again?”

Jon was not pleased to see a blush creep upon her cheeks. 

“Well, I do think it would be courteous of you to invite him, but I have a plan.”

“You? A plan? You don’t say.”

She shot him a withering look. “It came to me today while listening to Mr. Greyjoy.”

“I’m astonished. You weren’t actually listening to his riveting lecture on plants?”

She ignored him. “I think my friend Mrs. Jeyne Westerling and Mr. Greyjoy would make a wonderful match.”

“Ah, more meddling,” he muttered and sipped his tea. 

Sansa rolled her eyes. “I’m not meddling. I’m helping to bring two lonely souls together. It worked for Robb and Talisa, didn’t it?” 

“You will not always have good luck in your schemes, Sansa. Sometimes people should be left to their own devices.”

“And sometimes they need a push. Don’t you ever get bored being…”

“Sensible?”

She glared at him. “Being _you_ ,” she said with bite. 

Well, that hurt a bit. Jon was sure she meant for it to hurt, too. 

“I’m tired,” she said and got to her feet. “I should rest before dinner. Good day, Jon.”

Jon watched her go…and then got up and followed her. He caught up with her at the stairs. She had her hand on the railing and was about take one step up the stairs when he put his hand over hers and grasped it. 

She looked at him in surprise and he tugged on her hand. “What are you about?” she asked as he pulled her with him into the drawing room. 

Out of sight of the servants, Jon took Sansa in his arms and kissed her hungrily. “I’m not what you think, Sansa,” he panted before kissing her again. Her fingers dug into his suit jacket and Jon placed one hand at the back of her head as he kissed her. “I have passion, too,” he muttered against her lips. “I would share it with you.”

He kissed her again and walked her backwards to the wall. He pushed her against it and began to leave a trail of kisses down to her neck. 

“Jon,” she gasped. 

“Jon? Sansa?” Robb was calling to them. 

Jon groaned and parted from Sansa who looked at him half in bewilderment and half in lust. She probably didn’t even acknowledge the lust bit. Perhaps she wasn’t even aware yet that he inspired _some_ interest in her. 

She straightened her dress, patted her hair, and then rushed from the room. Jon took several deep breaths and sat down in a nearby chair. It wouldn’t do any good for Robb or Talisa see by the evidence in his pants what they’d actually been doing. “I was just showing Jon the book I was reading,” Jon heard her say. “I’m going up to rest. See you at dinner!”

Robb came in the room a second later and frowned when he looked at Jon. “Why do I have a feeling that she wasn’t showing you a book?”

Jon just looked at him. 

Robb sighed. “Jon, what did I say about taking liberties with my sister?”

“Leave him alone, Robb,” Talisa said as she came in the room. “Remember all the liberties you took?”

“That was different,” Robb grumbled. 

“How?” Talisa challenged. 

Robb’s jaw clenched. “It just was. Sansa is my sister.”

“I’m someone’s sister, too,” Talisa reminded him. 

“All I’m saying is that I won’t be so quick to look the other way and give Jon and Sansa time alone if he means to be taking liberties,” Robb said and looked at Jon pointedly. 

Jon sighed. He would take liberties where he could if it meant she kissed him back and taking them meant she felt something for him other than her usual aggravation. 

Confident that his erection was no longer an issue, he stood. “I’ll see you on the morrow for our visit to Mr. Lannister’s. What time shall I meet you there?”

“Noon,” Robb said, sounding weary. 

Jon bowed to Talisa, nodded to Robb, and took his leave. Once outside, he happened to look up towards Sansa’s bedchamber and found her standing on her veranda. She looked down at him and their eyes locked. Jon didn’t budge; he gazed up at her and refused to break their stare. 

Then she abruptly turned on heel and went back inside. 

“You will be mine, Sansa Stark,” Jon muttered as she climbed into his carriage. It was only a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, while writing the last bit all I could think of was this:
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://s1132.photobucket.com/user/Janina44/media/mike%20myers_zpsb9ojsqbp.gif.html)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> And that the sentence rhymed a little lol.


	6. Chapter 6

“Is that Jon?” Sansa asked as she peered through the carriage window. They were coming up on Mr. Lannister’s estate and the last thing she expected to see was Jon climbing out of his carriage. 

Her eyes narrowed and she looked at her brother. “Did you ask Jon to meet us here?” she asked. 

Robb shrugged. “Yes, why not? You two were the ones that met him on the road into town.”

Sansa pursed her lips together. She didn’t like the feeling that she was being managed. It was clear her brother and Talisa wanted her to make a match with Jon. Couldn’t they see how ill-suited they’d be with one another? Jon would forever be trying to change her and she would forever be trying to change him. It would never work. 

It didn’t matter that his kisses made her feel things she’d never felt before, kissing did not a match make. However, if she was to make a match she would definitely want the kisses to be like the ones Jon gave her. She would never tell him that though. She felt her cheeks heat just thinking about how he kissed her. 

Jon came over to their carriage just as Mr. Lannister exited his home, buttoning his coat as he jogged down the stairs. He looked quite handsome that day in a gray-blue suit. The footman opened the door to their carriage and Robb jumped down to greet Jon and offer Talisa his hand to help her down. When it was Sansa’s turn, he walked away to let Jon help her. Sansa sniffed and alighted from the carriage, ignoring Jon’s hand to help her down. 

“Good afternoon, Sansa,” Jon murmured to her. 

“Good afternoon, Jon,” she said stiffly.

Mr. Lannister came over then with a big smile on his handsome face. “Well, hello, everyone. It appears I have guests! Mr. Snow, good to see you again. He shook Jon’s hand and then bowed when he turned to Sansa. “And the most beautiful lady in Derbyshire, Lady Sansa.”

Sansa laughed airily. “Mr. Lannister, surely you have not seen all of the women in Derbyshire to make that assessment.”

“I don’t need to,” he said with a wink. He turned to Robb who was frowning at him. 

“Mr. Lannister,” Jon said, “May I present Lord Robb, Lady Sansa’s brother, and his wife Lady Talisa.”

Mr. Lannister didn’t even falter as he shook Robb’s hand and then bowed to Lady Talisa and kissed the back of her hand. “Charmed,” he murmured. He gestured to the house. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please,” Robb said brusquely. 

Sansa fell into step beside Mr. Lannister as he led them up the stairs to his home. It had changed since the last time Sansa had seen it. Windows had been fixed that had once been broken, and the steps looked as though they’d been cleared of dirt and other debris. It appeared as though it was being restored to its former glory just as Mr. Lannister had said. 

Inside the house, the floors gleamed and sconces sparkled. Maids and footmen bustled to and fro. Mr. Lannister, after stopping a maid to request tea and scones, led them into the drawing room, a bright red room with a grand piano tucked in the corner of the room and circlet of chairs around a giant fireplace. The thick Aubusson rug under them was thick under their feet and it felt like walking on a cloud. 

They all congregated around the fireplace, Sansa taking the spot next to Mr. Lannister and Jon taking the spot next to her. “I would show you around,” Mr. Lannister said, “but we are still in the midst of cleaning up.”

“I hope we did not intrude, Mr. Lannister,” Talisa said. 

“Not at all! It is nice to be welcomed to town,” he replied and smiled at Sansa. 

“I’m planning on holding a ball,” Jon said. 

Robb, Talisa, and Sansa all looked at him with wide eyes. They all knew how much Jon hated balls, and just yesterday he’d scoffed at the idea when Sansa had suggested it. 

“Jon?” she queried softly. “Do you mean that?”

He nodded. “What better way to introduce our new friend to Derbyshire than by having a ball?”

Sansa just stared at him. He looked back at her with heat in his eyes. She looked away and smiled at Mr. Lannister. “It is decided then. There will be a ball.”

“Of course I’ll need help with the planning of it,” Jon continued. “I’m sure you’ll be up to the task of supplying that help, Lady Sansa?”

Well then. There was a catch to his sudden agreement to the ball. She forced herself to smile at him. “Of course.”

“You truly do not have to go to such trouble on my account, Mr. Snow,” Mr. Lannister said. 

“Nonsense,” Sansa said with a smile. “It’s been a while since Mr. Snow held a ball. It will be much anticipated I’m sure. Why, I believe everyone would come out of the woodwork to see him. Especially the young ladies whose heads he’s turned.”

“Have I turned heads?” Jon chuckled. “I hadn’t noticed. But then I seem to be particularly occupied by one lady in particular even though she—”

“Oh, the tea has arrived!” Sansa said with a bit too much enthusiasm when she saw the maid enter the room at just the right moment. 

Robb and Talisa cleared their throats and darted looks between Sansa and Jon. Mr. Lannister just looked on with interest and some amusement. 

“I’ll happily serve the tea, Mr. Lannister,” Sansa said. 

“I’ll help,” Talisa said and got up from beside Robb. 

“Tell me a little bit about yourself, Mr. Lannister,” Robb said. “My sister says you grew weary of London. I thought all young dandies enjoyed what the city had to offer.”

Sansa shot him a warning look that Robb patently ignored. No doubt Robb thought he was helping Jon by calling Mr. Lannister a dandy, but he was also just being downright rude. 

Mr. Lannister, bless him, appeared unfazed by the insinuation. “The dandies do indeed seem to enjoy it. Having lived there all my life, I find it has grated on my nerves. I found I craved the simplicity of the country.”

Sansa frowned as she added two sugars to Jon’s tea. Did he mean they were simple? Was he looking to get back at Robb for his dandy comment? When she looked at him on her way to bring Jon his tea, he winked at her. She smiled back at him and then focused on handing Jon his tea. 

“Be careful, Jon,” she said warningly. “It’s rather hot. You wouldn’t want to spill it.”

“It warms the cockles of my heart how you look after me, Lady Sansa,” Jon said with an arched brow as he took his tea. 

Sansa resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. She prepared Mr. Lannister’s tea – cream and one sugar cube – and then prepared her own and sat back down. 

“Do you have experience running an estate such as this?” Robb asked Mr. Lannister. 

“I am learning as I go,” Mr. Lannister said. 

“If you need any help, please do not hesitate to ask,” Robb said. “That is, unless you find our simplicity dull and decide to return home.”

Mr. Lannister glanced at Sansa before replying. “Ah, no, I do not believe I will find it dull here at all.”

“Lady Talisa and I just visited a Mr. Theon Greyjoy, whom I’m sure you’ll meet at Mr. Snow’s ball, and he gave us excellent advice on our gardens,” Sansa said. “I would be happy to help you if you’d like, Mr. Lannister.”

“Thank you, Lady Sansa, that would be quite helpful,” Mr. Lannister said. 

“Mmm, perhaps you would be so kind as to give me a lesson as well, Lady Sansa,” Jon interjected. “Or perhaps we could learn together. What say you, Mr. Lannister?”

Mr. Lannister’s smile faltered. “That does indeed sound quite nice, Mr. Snow.” 

Sansa wanted to scream. Robb was being rude, and Jon was now showing interest in the things he’d scoffed at just to insinuate himself between her and Mr. Lannister! This was not going well at all, and she was sure that it was all Jon’s fault. 

“Well, we’re sure you have things to do, Mr. Lannister,” Robb said as he stood. Sansa wasn’t sure he’d taken more than a sip of his tea. 

Mr. Lannister stood and nodded. “It was nice to meet you all. Lady Sansa, perhaps it would be all right if I called on you soon?”

She smiled at him as she stood. “That would be lovely, Mr. Lannister.”

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Good day, Lady Sansa. Indeed you were the bright spot.”

She beamed at him and fought the urge to shoot Jon a smug look. In fact, she opted to ignore him completely as they all made their way back to their carriages. She overheard Robb asking Jon if he would like to visit. Jon, of course, agreed. 

Once she, Talisa, and Robb were in their carriage and on their way home, Sansa thwacked Robb with her reticule on his knee. 

“What was that for?!” Robb exclaimed and rubbed his knee. “Bloody hell, Sansa, what have you got in there?”

“Rocks,” she said through clenched teeth. “You were rude. Deliberately rude.”

“I didn’t like the way he fawned all over you. He’s a peacock.”

“And you’re an arse,” Sansa snapped. 

“Sansa Stark!” Robb said in faux shock. “Is that any way for a lady to talk?”

“I’ve heard you say far worse, brother.”

“I’m not a lady.”

“You’re not a man either. You’re an arse.”

“I’m sorry, husband, but you were quite rude,” Talisa said. 

“Don’t take her side!” Robb said. 

“You and Jon are terrible,” Sansa muttered. “You barely even spoke to him before you made your judgments, just as you did with Mr. Greyjoy. It’s despicable and I cannot believe you are my brother right now. Mother and Father would have been appalled at your behavior.”

Robb clamped his mouth shut at that and looked out window, a sullen expression on his face. Sansa took comfort in the fact that he had been properly chastised for his behavior. 

Next, she would be taking Jon to task for his.


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa had no idea how the sight of her incensed with him heated Jon’s blood. She was positively glorious when she was angry. Her blue eyes flashed and focused right in on him, and her cheeks grew pink. All she needed was a sword in her hand and she’d remind him of an avenging angel. 

When she requested to speak to him alone once they’d all returned to Winterfell, Jon knew he was in for it. Robb didn’t even argue or try to stop them when Sansa marched to the gardens. Jon had a feeling that she’d taken her brother to task, too. 

When they were well out of earshot and away from prying eyes, she turned on him and all Jon wanted to do was kiss her. He had a feeling though that trying would earn him a slap. 

“Yesterday when I suggested a ball you thought it a terrible idea—”

“I saw the error of my ways,” he interrupted. He was asking for it. She was wound up and wouldn’t appreciate being interrupted. 

“—today you not only agree to have one, but request my help. Then—”

“You know I’m rubbish when it comes to balls.”

“—when I offer to help Mr. Lannister with his gardens you want to join us even though you scoffed at the very idea of Mr. Greyjoy teaching me anything about herbs and plants before!”

“I figure if such a _fine_ gentleman as Mr. Lannister was interested in learning, then perhaps I should as well.”

She stomped her foot and her cheeks flamed red. “Then you nearly made known what your intentions were!”

Jon moved closer to her and her eyes narrowed to slits. “I thought it wise to let him know he has competition. You are mine, Sansa.”

Now she looked as though she might throttle him on the spot. “I am _not_ yours, Jon Snow, and Mr. Lannister is not a contender for my affections. He is merely a new friend.”

“You are blind if that is what you truly believe,” Jon spat. “Plus, you wouldn’t think he was ‘merely’ a friend with the way you fawn all over him!”

“I do not fawn—”

“Yes, you do. The whole reason we went to see him today was so you could make a big show of welcoming him to the neighborhood. The whole reason why you want me to have a ball is to show him off and, I’ve no doubt, make sure every lady in Derbyshire knows he is yours!”

Sansa stomped her foot. “That is not true! I wanted you to have a ball so I could match Mr. Greyjoy and my friend Jeyne—”

“Yes, that is what you tell me and maybe even yourself, but it’s not the true reason, Sansa. When I asked you if it was for Mr. Lannister, you blushed!”

“Oh, a blush! Alert the presses!”

“Sansa, Mr. Lannister is a peacock and not the settling down type—”

“Nor am I,” she said. 

“Yes, you are. You were made to be loved. To be doted on and treated like a Queen, to have babies and a husband that worships the ground you walk on,” he said passionately. 

“And you believe you are that man?”

He gripped her arms. “I _am_ that man.”

“Jon—”

He crashed his lips down upon hers and her hands twisted in his jacket as though she first meant to push him away, but then she began to respond and her palms flattened against his chest. He dug one hand into the back of her hair and pulled lightly. Her head tilted back and Jon lavished her neck with kisses and nips. “Stop fighting me, Sansa,” he murmured against her skin. His lips trailed to the top of her bodice and he pressed kisses to the tops of her breasts. 

She gasped when he cupped her breast in his hand and he looked at her heatedly. Her eyes were wide. “Do you see how you respond to me, Sansa?” he growled. 

Sansa’s jaw clenched and she pushed him away from her and righted her dress. “You go too far, Jon Snow.”

“Not far enough.”

She patted her hair and lifted her chin haughtily. “I will return now to the house.” She started to walk away from him, but then Jon called her name softly. She stopped and turned to face him. 

“Do not forget that if you want that ball, you will be helping me as I said,” he told her. 

The slow smile that spread across her face concerned him. That smile was conspiratorial. Whatever had just popped in her mind would not bode well for him. Jon’s eyes narrowed at her. Her smile grew wider. 

“Very well, Jon. I’ll be by tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll be sure to have lunch readied.”

“There is really no need for that—”

“Just the same,” he said. 

“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth and stormed off. 

Jon sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He’d never met a more stubborn woman in his life. Nor one so passionate. He could just imagine what bedding her would be like…

If she would just let those damned prejudices go against him. He could have fun! He was not serious _all_ the time, and they _were_ well suited for each other. 

Jon waited until he had calmed down considerably and there were no traces left of how his body responded to Sansa before he made his way back to the house. 

xxxxxxxx

The following afternoon, Jon was reading the newspaper when he heard the familiar sound of a carriage coming down the lane. He smiled to himself and got up, placing the paper down on the table beside him. He marched to the front door to greet Sansa outside. He was looking forward to having her all to himself for the afternoon. 

As he descended the stairs to greet her and assist her down from the carriage, his smile fell when he saw it was Talisa that emerged. She looked at him apologetically, and then expectantly when she held out a hand. 

Jon snapped into action and assisted her down. “Where is Sansa?” he asked. 

“I am here,” came Sansa’s voice from inside the carriage. She held a thick tome bursting with papers and fabrics – _fabrics?_

She handed him the book. It was heavy. Jon looked at her, puzzled. She smiled serenely at him and he got the message loud and clear: _You asked for this when you asked for my help._

She let herself down from the carriage, ignoring Jon’s attempt to assist her. “I told Talisa that you would have lunch for us,” she said. “We are both quite famished.”

Jon did request that a luncheon be prepared for himself and Sansa, not Sansa and Talisa, and she damn well knew it, too. Now that smile she’d bestowed upon him the day before when he’d reminded her how she was to help him plan this damn ball made sense. 

“You’ll have to forgive me, Talisa, for I was not aware that you would be accompanying Sansa this afternoon. I thought perhaps her maid would come as a chaperone,” Jon said pointedly as he looked at Sansa. 

“Do not fret, Jon,” Talisa said and patted his arm. “I had a feeling you might not have been expecting me.”

Sansa ignored them both and began ascending Jon’s front steps. “We have work to do! There is no time to waste!”

Jon sighed and offered Talisa his arm. Talisa patted his arm as they made their way up the stairs. “Don’t worry, Jon,” she said quietly. “You are under her skin.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” Jon murmured. 

“Tis a good thing. That means she thinks about you.”

“I’m not sure I want to know what it is she’s thinking when she does.”

Talisa laughed and Sansa cast them a long look over her shoulder. 

“You keep her on her toes,” Talisa said softly. “Sansa needs that as she is often the one doing that to others.”

“Don’t I know it,” Jon muttered. 

“You are her match in every way, but she’s a Stark and that means she’s stubborn. Robb might frown upon stolen kisses, but as long as that is the only liberty being taken, I am quite certain to look the other way…”

Jon grinned. “Why, thank you, Lady Talisa.”

She smiled and patted his hand. It was good to know he had someone in his corner for when it came to coming up against Sansa, Jon felt as though he might as well have an army to win over.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice long chapter to make up for my slacking on this story!

Only Sansa could make Jon feel as though he didn’t know his own household. When she asked if he had any other dinner cloths than the ones he usually used, he was sad to say that he didn’t know. Then she asked him about candles and any extra candelabras and he felt ashamed to say that he didn’t know what he had for candles and if there were any spare candelabras. He didn’t pay much mind to things like that; he let his staff take care of those things. It was how he’d planned balls in the past – he’d simply told them what he wanted and they’d done it. 

Jon could easily picture Sansa as his wife and putting his estate in order as he watched her bustle about. Even Talisa seemed rather overwhelmed by all that was happening. That was how his friend’s wife came to stand beside him. 

“She is something isn’t she?” Talisa asked quietly. 

Jon smiled. “She is.” Feeling Talisa’s eyes on him, he looked down at her and found her studying him. “Yes, Talisa? May I ask what it is that you are thinking?”

“You love her quite a bit don’t you?” 

Jon nodded and his gaze ventured back to Sansa. “I do. I always have.”

“Oh?”

“Well, you know that Robb and I grew up practically in each other’s pockets?”

“Yes, Robb has said as much.”

“That included Sansa. She and Robb being only a few years apart, and Sansa being the sibling he got on well with the most, she often spent a lot of time with us.”

“You have loved her since you were children?”

Jon frowned. “Well, not exactly since then, no, but close enough. I remember when I knew though.”

“When was that?”

“When she had her coming out. I realized then that she wasn’t the same Sansa to me anymore. She wasn’t the girl that made me be the highwayman that kidnapped her and made Robb be her prince that saved her; she was a woman. And she had admirers. When I wanted to punch them all and kidnap her away from them, I knew I was in love with her.”

“Have you ever tried, Jon, to see if you ever had any interest in another woman?”

Jon sighed. “Yes. I once spent a torturous Season in London. I attempted to court a woman I met there and found her to be quite…vacuous. I found I spent most of my time comparing her to Sansa. Even a Season away and I couldn’t really escape her.”

Sansa stopped in the middle of the room and put her hand to her forehead and swayed on her feet. Jon lurched forward, frowning, and Talisa followed. 

“Sweetling, do you feel all right?” Jon asked as he came upon her. 

She looked at him tiredly. “I am fine, Jon. Just a bit hungry.”

“You barely ate lunch,” Talisa pointed out. “Excuse me, I shall see if we can have some tea and something to eat.”

As Talisa left the ballroom, Jon put his arm around Sansa’s waist and led her out onto the balcony for air. “You’re working too hard,” he admonished her lightly as they sat down upon a bench.

“Perhaps, but there is much to be done.” She frowned and stood. Jon got up and followed her. “Sweetling, sit, please—”

“I’m not sure I like the refreshment tables there anymore. I should have them moved.” She started to move forward and Jon caught her about the waist with one arm and drew her back against him. Sansa stiffened in his arms. “Jon, this isn’t proper.”

“I don’t care,” he murmured. “You need to rest.” Unable to resist, he pressed a kiss to her neck and then turned her in his arms and pushed her gently back to the bench. She sat, and he sat down beside her once again. “This is what you do for your brother and Talisa, isn’t it?” he asked. 

She nodded. “I like helping them.”

“You like helping people.”

“I do.”

“Do you ever let anyone help you?”

She looked at him in question. “With what?”

“With anything. Surely there are things even the great Sansa Stark needs help with from time to time.”

She shrugged. “Talisa helps me plan balls.”

“By help do you mean you draw up the orders and she carries them out?”

She sniffed. “Sometimes I let her make decisions.”

Jon laughed. Sansa smiled wanly. He looked at her with a skeptical eye. “I’ve an idea,” he said. 

“Yes, what is it?”

“Later. After you’ve eaten more than a few bites of something.”

She frowned at him, but let it go when Talisa appeared with a maid who was pushing out a cart with tea, scones, and watercress sandwiches. 

Jon watched Sansa go from taking dainty bites of the sandwich to devouring two of them and a scone. When he was satisfied that she’d gotten some color back in her face, he led her back into the ballroom and assessed the room with a critical eye. After a few seconds he asked one of the footmen to help him move the refreshment tables and a few chairs. 

When they were done, Jon looked at Sansa. “Well?”

She lifted her chin and then nodded. “I approve.”

He grinned at her and Talisa sent him an encouraging smile. 

xxxxxxx

Later, when Sansa and Talisa were ready to leave, Sansa went over with him a few things she had put in motion to be done. Talisa slipped out of the room with a wink toward Jon and shut the door behind her, leaving them alone. Jon was quite thankful for a few minutes alone with Sansa. Except she was making it difficult for him to get a word in edgewise. 

“So, the new cloth napkins should be done by the end of next week,” Sansa said, “And then there are the invitations we’ll have to create—”

“Sansa.”

“I want to make an arrangement for the center piece—”

“ _Sansa_.”

She looked at him. “Yes?”

“Breathe, love,” he said and placed one hand on the side of her face. “You’ve been at this since you got here—”

“No. I did break for lunch—”

“That you barely ate.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And then we had another break—”

“In which you did eat.”

She sighed. “You asked for my help, Jon. Let’s face it: when it comes to balls you are in dire need of it.”

“I won’t argue with you on that.” He cocked his head to the side. “You like to be needed, don’t you?”

“Whatever is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you pretty much run things at home with Robb and Talisa. Today you ran the show in here. You’ve devoted yourself to managing Theon Greyjoy—”

“I am not _managing_ him, Jon—”

“Wrong choice of words, but you are attempting to bring someone who appeared petrified of his own shadow out into society.”

“Do you perchance have a point to all of this?”

“Ever since your parents died I’ve noticed that you’ve done your level best to…to manage things. People. Perhaps manage isn’t the right word as I said, but it’s the best I can come up with for now.”

“What is wrong with trying to help people?” she asked. 

“Nothing,” he said. “But you’re almost manic about it.”

She pursed her lips together. 

“Sansa, are you afraid that if you don’t control the people around you or attempt to control what happens to them, then something tragic might befall them?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered and started to pack up her book. 

Jon grabbed her hands to stop her and she looked at him challengingly. “Sansa, are you afraid if you marry me you’ll not have any control over anything? Are you afraid to leave Robb and Talisa?”

“I’ve no desire to leave my brother and Talisa. They are good to me and I love them dearly. My brother is a kind man. He’s a good brother and an excellent husband. I don’t believe I’d find a husband like him.”

“You don’t believe I could be a good husband to you?”

She sighed. “You wish to change me. You don’t like my ‘projects’; you’ve made that clear.”

“I don’t wish to change you, Sansa. I like you perfectly well as you are. I just wish for you to think before you proceed—”

“See? You wish to stop me!”

“No,” he said and shook his head. “Sansa, listen to my words. Remember the night of the ball when Theon Greyjoy appeared and you descended upon him with your friends. You scared him right off.”

“I did not—”

“You did. And you knew it. Instead you tried a different tactic and it worked. You went to him one-on-one and he opened up to you. He may not be ready to socialize as you’d like him to, but he is at least speaking to you and Talisa, yes?”

She sighed, clearly irritated. “Yes.”

“And today, I didn’t try to stop you from doing what you wanted, Sansa. Instead I worked with you. Beside you. I didn’t step on your toes, did I?”

“No,” she said shortly. 

He moved in closer, placing a hand on her hip. “Then why do you fight me so? Why do you think I would attempt to change you? I wouldn’t change one hair on your head.”

“I do not know how to be a wife.”

“And I do not know how to be a husband, but it’s something we could learn together.”

“Don’t you think that there could be someone better suited for you?”

Jon shook his head. “No. You’re the one that I want, Sansa. Do you plan to live your life without love?”

“I have love, Jon Snow. I have my family; I have my friends.”

“Without _romantic_ love.”

She appeared to ponder that for a moment. “Well, I have been thinking lately that perhaps I could take a lover one day.”

That served to make Jon angry. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. “That thought had best not have arrived along with Jaime Lannister.”

Her eyes flashed and she pushed away from him. “See. Already trying to tell me what to do and think.” She started to walk away from him and he grabbed her and pulled her back to him. 

“I do not have any evidence save for my gut which tells me that man is trouble, Sansa,” Jon told her. “I do not trust him.”

“Oh, then by all means I must listen to your gut,” she snapped. 

“I’ll not let you ruin your life and reputation over that peacock—”

“You do not have a say in my life,” she hissed. 

“If you want to consider a lover then consider me,” he muttered and then kissed her. She pushed at him weakly with one hand, but Jon did not stop kissing her. He backed her to one of the refreshment tables and lifted her onto it. He let one hand drift to her bodice and he tugged it down and bent his head to take her now exposed breast in his mouth. 

She gasped and her fingers carded through his hair. 

“You’re not immune to me, Sansa,” he muttered and then treated her other breast to the same treatment. He made a path of kisses along her collarbone and up to her neck. He nipped at her chin and then looked straight into her eyes as he grabbed her skirts in one hand and lifted them up. 

Her eyes went wide, and Jon knew he was taking a chance that Talisa could eventually come looking for Sansa, but at that moment in time Jon was past caring. He just wanted Sansa to stop bloody thinking and just _feel_. 

Under her skirts and into her pantalets he went and when he found her wet heat he moaned and kissed her hungrily. “Oh, sweet girl, you are wet for me…”

Sansa gasped and clutched at him. “Jon, this is definitely not proper…”

“How does it _feel_ , sweetling?”

She shut her eyes tightly and moaned. “Jon,” she gasped. “What is happening to me?”

“Let it happen, Sansa, let go…come for me, love, come on…”

Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open into a silent scream. She buried her face in his shoulder as her climax washed over her and caused her to shake against him. “Jon,” she moaned.

Jon slowly pulled his hand from her pantalets and then from under her skirts. She looked up at him in wonder and he held her gaze as he licked the remnants of her climax from his fingers. Her eyes widened and she blushed and pushed at him. 

“I could make you tremble in my arms like that every night, Sansa,” he told her. “I would make you feel so good…”

She reddened even further and adjusted her bodice before sliding down from the table. She wobbled a bit on shaky legs and Jon smiled smugly. She caught his smile and glared at him. “You’re despicable.”

He snorted. “You didn’t seem to think so with my hand up your—”

She clamped a hand over his mouth. “Ssshhh! Do you want everyone to know what happened here?”

“Why not?” he said. “They’d know as I do that you’re mine.”

“I’m not yours,” she told him. “I am not chattel, Jon Snow.”

“Would it help if I told you that I’m yours as well?”

Her breath hitched at that and then she fixed her skirts and patted down her hair. “We’ll not speak of this again—”

“Yes, we will.”

“And it won’t happen again.”

His eyes darkened. “It will. Maybe next time I won’t let you come until you agree to marry me.”

She glared at him and stepped around him “Good day, Mr. Snow.”

He laughed as she strode to the door. “I think it’s a little late to go back to the proprieties, Sansa!”

She paused at the door and he thought she might turn around and give him hell. God, he wanted her to. But she didn’t. She kept right on going.


	9. Chapter 9

Sansa couldn’t stop thinking about how Jon had so scandalously touched her. When she thought of it she would feel her cheeks to start to warm and a tingle start in the place he’d touched. The part of her that had been brought up a lady was appalled that she had allowed him to take such liberties. The other part of her was afraid to admit that she’d liked it. 

Were those the sorts of things that would happen if she was to take a lover? 

If so, perhaps she would consider it a bit more seriously than she had previously. Quite honestly, she had only told Jon that she had considered taking a lover because she rather enjoyed ruffling his feathers. She was hesitant to admit it, but she actually liked arguing with Jon sometimes. She often thought he could use some rattling. 

However, she didn’t much like it when he tried to rattle her. Didn’t he know how this worked between them? She shook his cage, not the other way around. 

In any event, Sansa couldn’t help but now wonder what it would be like to take a lover. Specifically, what it would be like to take Jon as one. He could certainly teach her many things whilst making her feel that heavenly feeling again. She hated to admit it, but he was right. There was something between them. How terrible was it of her to think that it was largely carnal in nature? Oh, she could almost hear her mother chastising her for not thinking very lady-like thoughts! However, she was considered practically on the shelf now so what harm could there be in actually taking one? If what Jon did to her was anything to go by, it would be great fun – and informative. Maybe he’d prefer that arrangement over marriage. . . 

Thinking about what had happened in his ballroom, and considering taking him as her lover was at war with the part of her that had been taught to think and want such things was unnatural. She found she couldn’t even look at Robb and Talisa. She almost felt as though Jon had branded her in some way so that the world could see how just how he’d touched her. She had told him it wouldn’t happen again, but upon further reflection she began to think that maybe it could…

Distraction from her scandalous thoughts came in the form of Jaime Lannister. He showed up the following afternoon asking if he could perchance steal her away for a while for a ride into town. Robb hadn’t looked pleased, but Talisa had whispered something to him that made him relent. So, after making sure she had procured a chaperone in the form of her maid, Sansa was off for a ride with Mr. Lannister. 

“This was a nice surprise, Mr. Lannister,” Sansa said as they rambled over the bridge in his curricle. 

“Please, call me Jaime. We are friends, are we not?” He winked at her and Sansa smiled, flushing slightly. 

“Indeed we are.”

Sansa asked him how the clean-up of his house was going and told him that preparations were under way for the ball. Once in town, he took her to the tea shoppe and they sat together and had tea and scones. 

“It’s so much nicer here than England,” Jaime observed. “Slower.”

“I was in London once for my coming out. It is rather fast-paced isn’t it?”

“Quite. Not to mention so many false people.”

Sansa cocked her head to the side, sensing a story. “How do you mean?”

“People who claim they are one way, but are really another. Or who claim to want one thing, but really wish for another.”

“Such as?”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, you know.”

She did, but she wanted specifics. “Is that what made you want to find a home in the country? Because you were tired of falsities?”

“Yes. Now, enough about me, Lady Sansa.” He leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin. “Tell me, are you and Mr. Snow promised to one another?”

“No, we are not,” Sansa replied. 

“But he wants to be, am I right?”

Sansa didn’t want to talk about Jon with Jaime. It made her uncomfortable; as though she was doing something wrong by Jon. 

“I am not certain of Mr. Snow’s true intentions,” Sansa lied. 

Jaime didn’t look as though he quite believed her, but he let it slide. He asked questions about the town and then encouraged Sansa to pick out some scones for Talisa and Robb. “Perhaps it will incite them to like me,” he said with a wink.

“My brother is just protective of me,” Sansa told him. 

“I can understand a brother wanting to protect his sister.”

“Do you have a sister?” she asked. 

Jaime grimaced. “I do. She’s a brute. She is not the sort that needs my protection. Rather, most people need protection from her.” Then he broke into a smile. “Although I must say she can be rather fun.” Now he looked almost wistful. “We did have some fun at those stuffy balls in London.”

“Oh? How so?” Sansa asked eagerly. 

Something flashed across Jaime’s face that she couldn’t name. It looked almost uncomfortable, as though he was having a bad memory instead of a pleasant one. Then he shook his head as if to clear it from his mind. “Now you must pick one out for yourself, Lady Sansa,” he said. “The lemon?”

Sansa realized that once they hit her driveway, she hadn’t learned all that much about him. Just…tidbits. Not enough to piece the man together. She got the sense there was much more to things he wouldn’t say, and she got the feeling those things had hurt him in some way. 

Leaving out part of the information just made Sansa insatiable for more. She liked to have the whole picture, and only having half made her desirous to investigate. He intrigued her for some reason and perhaps it was just the fact that he was new to her world. It wasn’t often new people moved into Derbyshire. Plus, he hailed from London and though she had agreed for the most part that the hustle and bustle of the city had made her weary and long for the country, there was something to be said for experiencing it. 

She’d chosen to stay home with Robb and Talisa instead of taking a Grand Tour, but sometimes she wished she had joined Arya and Bran. Sometimes, Sansa longed for adventure. Jaime seemed the sort to be quite adventurous. 

Perhaps he could be her lover...but she had a feeling she’d have to know much more than she did about what all that entailed. Jon was the perfect one to start with. It wasn’t as though he was in love with her or anything – at least she didn’t think he truly was. She was just convenient for him because she was his neighbor, they’d grown up together, and he found it easy to talk to her. She was certain that if Jon cared to venture into town and talk to more people, he would find someone else he preferred over her. 

Odd how that thought actually stung…

“How was your ride with Mr. Lannister?” Talisa asked as she came upon Sansa who was undoing her bonnet in the foyer. 

Sansa smiled at her sister-in-law. “Fun. He is a bit secretive though, I find I don’t like that. I like having all cards on the table.”

“Hmmm, it does make one wonder what he could possibly have to hide,” Talisa said “Perhaps it is not something very nice.”

“Perhaps. Or maybe just painful.”

Talisa studied her. “It made you want to discover more about him, didn’t it?”

“You know me well.”

Talisa sighed. “Well, might I suggest you err on the side of caution? I think Mr. Lannister is quite charming, but that does not mean he is a good man.”

Sansa hung her bonnet next to her cloak and set about taking off her gloves. “Talisa, do you think I have set my cap set on Jaime – er, Mr. Lannister?”

Talisa arched a brow. “On a first name basis, are we?”

Sansa sighed. “Please do not make it a bigger deal than it is. And please do not tell Robb…or Jon.”

A shadow of a smile passed over Talisa’s features. “Tell me then, Sansa, what is it you do wish from Mr. Lannister if not to make a match?”

Sansa bit her lip and then gestured to the drawing room. “May we have a chat alone?”

“Of course.”

Together they made their way into the drawing room, and once inside Sansa shut the door and sat down with her sister-in-law near the fireplace. “If I tell you something will you swear not to tell Robb? Because if you tell him I’ll never trust you again. And if you’re not sure if you can keep a secret then I’ll not tell you it at all.”

Talisa sighed, looking contemplative. Finally, she nodded. “You can tell me your secret and I’ll keep it.”

“I’ve been thinking of taking a lover.”

“Sansa!”

Sansa held up her hand. “Wait, listen. I’ve been thinking of taking Jon as my lover. He…knows things.”

Talisa’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know he ‘knows’ things?”

Sansa bit her lip. “I may have acquired some…experience with his knowledge.”

Talisa pursed her lips together. “I see.”

“I know women who are on the shelf take lovers. It’s just how things are, correct?”

“I would prefer that you took a husband…”

“And be shackled to someone for the rest of my life? No thank you.”

“Sansa, is that what you think of me?” Talisa asked. “That I’m shackled to Robb?”

“No, of course not! I just don’t like the idea of taking a husband. Jon says that he wouldn’t try to change me, but I think he would. I’d prefer to be free and yet be able to…”

“Have fun?”

Sansa nodded. “Exactly. Jon is right, much to my chagrin, that there is something between us. I think it might be carnal in nature.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “My mother must be spinning in her grave!”

Talisa laughed. “Don’t fret, darling. It is perfectly natural for you to be curious about what happens between a man and a woman. And if Jon has given you some…taste of that, well, there is nothing wrong with wanting more.”

“There isn’t?”

“Not at all.” A blush began to bloom on Talisa’s cheeks. “It can be quite addictive.”

“Oh, dear, please do not talk about my brother in reference to that!”

Talisa laughed and then grew serious once again. “Sansa, you are a grown woman, but I would ask you again, err on the side of caution. Jon wants you for his wife—”

“Jon doesn’t know what he wants.”

“And you do? You know what he wants?”

“Perhaps. Why can’t I satisfy that need and gain experience for another…?”

“I’m taking you to mean that you would like to have Mr. Lannister as a lover after Jon?”

“Yes, I think so. As of right now anyway.”

Talisa sighed. “Oh, Sansa. Sometimes you do worry me.”

“You promised. You will not tell Robb.”

“I won’t. I just want you to have a care, please. If you and Jon…and you became with child…”

“I will speak to him about it. He might have some ideas. If not, maybe Mr. Greyjoy knows of a concoction to ensure that I don’t. I would ask him discreetly of course, perhaps borrow one of his giant tomes on herbs…”

“I will not lie; I do not think this is a good course of action for you.”

“But I am not a child. And it my choice.”

Talisa sighed again. “It is. Just be sure that this is the choice you really want to make. And please, be mindful of Jon. You may not believe it, but he cares for you deeply, Sansa.”

“I know he cares for me. It is the same as I care for him. Do you think I wish him harm? I do not. He is…for all the trouble I give him and he gives me…a dear friend. I would approach him as such.”

“Have you considered the fact that if you go down this road with Jon, feelings might in fact develop for him? Feelings that are quite close to how he feels about you.”

“I am not concerned. If anything of that nature was to blossom it would have by now.” She stood. “I think I’ll grab my book and take a ramble by the fountain. Read a bit.”

Talisa nodded. “Perhaps think a bit more?”

Sansa shook her head. “I’ve made up my mind. Thank you for listening.” 

Talisa watched her bound off, a definite spring in her step and she wished with all her might she had not promised to keep this secret…

xxxxxxx

“Hello, sweetling.”

Sansa looked up from her book and smiled brightly upon seeing Jon coming upon her in the garden. Her stomach did a few flips and she wondered at that. It had never happened before. “Jon! I am very pleased to see you today!”

He stopped in his tracks and frowned. “Have I stepped into a different world? Since when are you pleased to see me?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh dear God, Sansa. When you start with that it worries me.” He sat down facing her on the bench. “What have you been thinking, love?”

“Do you recall the conversation we had in which I expressed an interest in taking a lover?”

His eyes darkened and dropped to her lips. “Yes, I do.”

“I’ve been thinking I believe I do wish to pursue that.”

Jon looked wary “Oh?”

“Yes, and I would like you to be my first.”

Jon’s mouth dropped open and he stared at her. 

Sansa leaned forward. “Are you all right? Blink if you can hear me.”

“Sansa…I…”

She broke into a wide smile. “Oh, for once you don’t have a quick rebuttal. Bully for me! So? What say you? Will you allow me to take you as my lover?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This chapter is exactly 2100 words!

Of all the things Sansa could have said to him, this he had not expected. In all the years he had known Sansa he could never have imagined that this would come out of her mouth. She wished to take him as her lover? To be her –

“Wait a bloody minute,” he said. “Did you say first? Your _first_ lover?”

“Well, yes. I can’t imagine it would be an arrangement we’d want forever.”

“Sansa, I want to _marry_ you.”

“Jon, listen to me—”

“Where is this idea even coming from?”

“You gave it to me.”

“ _I_ gave it to you. You’re the one that mentioned it to me yesterday.”

“But _you’re_ the one that went under my skirts.”

All right then… “Help me understand.”

She smirked as if she was thinking he should have been listening to her all along anyway. Jon reigned in his temper. “You’ll be pleased to learn that you’re absolutely right about there being something between us. There is. And I think this is the perfect arrangement for us to explore that.”

“But not marriage.”

“Of course not. I didn’t ask you to marry me, Jon. I asked you to be my lover. I trust you, and even though I give you a hard time, I do care for you. You are a dear friend—”

“Friend! I’m your friend!”

“Well, yes. Is there something wrong with that?”

Jon leaned forward so that they were a hairsbreadth apart. “I want to be something infinitely dearer to you than _friend_ , Sansa.”

“I imagine if you agreed to be my lover you would be. Why are you so angry with me? I am offering a part of myself to you—”

“A part, yes. I don’t want a _part_ of you, Sansa, I want _all_ of you.”

She stood and began to pace. Then she stopped and looked at him, her hands on her hips. “Jon, I do not understand why you’re not happier about this. I chose you.”

“Yes, as your _first_. I want to be your first and your _last_. Do you not understand that I love you, Sansa?”

She looked at him with wide eyes and then shook her head. “Jon, you do not love me.”

“Why do you insist on telling me what I feel?”

“I am convenient for you. We practically grew up together and you feel comfortable with me. It’s not that you love me, it’s just that I’m not terrifying to you. If you had ever spoken to another woman and gave them a chance—”

“I have, Sansa.”

“When?” she demanded. 

Jon didn’t want to get his hopes up that she actually sounded jealous rather than just curious in asking that…but she did. “Do you remember the Season I spent in London?” She nodded. “There was a woman there. I courted her.”

Her chin lifted. “Oh?”

She was jealous. _Well, I’ll be damned_ , he thought. “She was vacuous and I spent the entire time comparing her to you.”

“Just the one woman?”

“Just the one.”

She pursed her lips together. 

He got up, nodding slowly. “I see. That’s not enough for your highness, is it?”

“Jon, I just think if you expanded your circle—”

“Right then. You want me to expand my circle and see how well I get on with other women. Shall I give it a go then?” She opened her mouth as if to speak but no words came out. “I suggest you invite to my ball as many eligible women as you know. Be sure to include Lady Margaery, I do find her rather beautiful.”

Sansa straightened, her expression turned cool. She folded her hands in front her demurely, closing herself off entirely. She looked every inch an ice princess as she looked at him. She could deny what she felt all she wanted, but Jon could see it in her very posture that she did not like this idea at all. Not that the stubborn chit would ever admit it. “Very well then,” she said coldly. 

“If it turns out that I am not interested then I’ll consider you offer to be your lover.”

Something passed over her features that gave Jon pause, but then she nodded. 

“Shall I see you tomorrow then for more preparations of the ball?” he asked. 

“Yes. Talisa and I will be there at noon.”

“I’ll have luncheon ready. Good day, Lady Sansa.”

“Good day, Mr. Snow.”

Jon walked off, forcing himself to keep walking and not to turn around and tell her fine, he’ll be her lover. He’ll make love to her so well she won’t want him to ever stop. But no, she was determined to put up obstacles when it was clear she felt something more than she was willing to let on, then he would force her hand. He could put on a good show of tending to some of the women at the ball, and he’d take his victory when Sansa finally admitted she cared more for him than as a _friend_. 

“How did your visit with Sansa go?” Robb asked when Jon reached the veranda where he and Talisa were taking tea 

“Quite well, thank you,” he said. 

“Did it?” Talisa asked, looking at him curiously. 

Odd, that. Jon nodded. “Yes. Though I don’t need to tell either of you how stubborn she can be.”

“Did she tell you Mr. Lannister paid her a visit today?” Robb asked. 

That drew Jon up short. “No, she didn’t. What did that peacock want?”

“He took her on a carriage ride into town,” Talisa said. 

“There’s something decidedly slimy about him,” Robb muttered. “I am considering having him investigated.”

“Robb!” Talisa scolded. “Honestly!”

“What? That man is paying court to my sister. I’ve a right to know exactly how his ‘I just wanted to get away from the city’ story shakes out.”

“You think he was forced out?” Jon asked. 

“I don’t know what I think, but I just know I don’t like the way he looks at Sansa.”

“Let me know if you do have him investigated,” Jon said. “I’ll pay half the fee.”

“You two,” Talisa muttered and got to her feet. “No wonder Sansa doesn’t want to marry. Why would she when her brother and the man that claims to love her manage her affairs just as well as if she was!” She stormed off into the house and Robb frowned as he watched his wife go. 

“I’m going to pay for that,” Robb muttered. He sighed and looked up at Jon. “She might be right. It’s not very sporting of us to have Mr. Lannister investigated is it?”

“Maybe not sporting, but I know I would have some peace of mind if I knew more about him.”

“Sansa said he wasn’t forthcoming with details. Of course, this being Sansa, she thinks he’s hiding a great pain.”

Jon sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for the bloom to come off that rose,” he muttered. “I’m for home.” If he stayed any longer he was going to give up this farce and give himself to Sansa just as she’d wanted. “I will see you soon.”

“Good day, Jon.”

xxxxxxxxx

“May I ask, Lady Sansa, what you meant yesterday when you said there was something between us,” Jon asked the following afternoon after a difficult few hours of working alongside Sansa and not being able to touch her. 

Talisa had left the room to see to some flower arrangements that had been done and she’d looked at Jon warningly when she’d gone. He wondered if Sansa had said anything to her about what happened between them. _If she only knew what Sansa had asked of me!_ he thought. 

“Do you not think perhaps that conversation has passed now, Jon?” Sansa asked absently as she placed candles in the candelabra. 

“No, I don’t. If I am to consider your offer then I wish to know exactly what it is you were thinking when it came to me.”

“Mmm…well, you might have nothing to consider if you find you have a fondness for someone else at your ball.”

“Sansa, just tell me, please.”

She didn’t say anything and Jon thought she might not answer. He was about to ask her again when she said, “I liked it when you touched me.”

“You said it would never happen again.”

“I changed my mind.”

He snorted. “Did you ever.”

“I liked how you made me feel.” She looked at him and Jon’s hands itched to go to her. To take her in his arms. He fisted them at his sides. “I liked kissing you and I wanted that feeling you gave me when you touched me…and I trust you because you are my friend and we have known each for so long. There is something between us, something carnal in nature, and I wanted to explore that.”

She was right in that there was something carnal between them. And after hearing her explanation, he wasn’t as insulted as he’d been the day before to hear how she considered him her friend. She trusted him, and that was important. There had to be trust between lovers. 

Between husband and wife. 

She needed a nudge to deepen the feelings of lust she had – because that much was obvious. She desired him though she lacked the experience to show him or even tell him how she desired him. Instead, she came at him as though proposing a business arrangement. 

Maybe taking her up on her offer wouldn’t be so terrible. He could wear her down. She wasn’t experienced enough to be able to separate her emotions from the act. She thought she could, she thought she already had, but if he was inside her…

He clenched his jaw. No. First this. First he would make a show of ‘trying’ so that at least that would be struck off the list of reasons she couldn’t possibly consider wedding him. 

“You didn’t tell me yesterday that Mr. Lannister visited you,” Jon said. 

“Was I supposed to?”

“It would have been nice to know.”

She shrugged and that irritated him. Before he could say anything to that though, Talisa returned and there she stayed until it was time for both of them to leave. 

xxxxxxxx

The next few weeks were difficult for Jon. He didn’t like this distance between he and Sansa, and he didn’t like learning second-hand, usually from Robb or Talisa, that Jaime Lannister had come by for carriage rides or to take tea with Sansa. Sansa never told him about those visits and Jon didn’t know why. 

When he asked Talisa why, she said it was either because Jaime’s visits didn’t meant all that much to her or Sansa didn’t want to upset him. 

“Is she happy when he visits? Does she flirt with him? Does he flirt with her?” Jon asked her, the afternoon before the ball. 

Talisa sighed and looked at him sadly. “You do love her a great deal, don’t you?”

Jon nodded. “I do,” he rasped. “And I know she feel something for me. She just won’t admit it.”

“Has she…said…anything to you?” 

Jon arched a brow. “Such as?”

“Just anything about her feelings?”

Jon wondered how much Talisa knew, but then Sansa came back in the room and declared that everything was set and they were done until the ball tomorrow. 

Jon just wanted the blasted ball over and done with already so he could instead focus on the business of making Sansa his wife. 

“Make sure you get some rest tonight, Jon,” Sansa told him as she and Talisa made their way down to the front doors. 

“Yes, dearest,” Jon said and she shot him a look. He grinned. 

Talisa just rolled her eyes and kept on going out the door, but Jon grabbed Sansa before she could and pulled her against him. “Will you save me a dance tomorrow?” he asked and allowed himself to stroke a few strands of hair between his fingers. 

“Won’t you be busy chatting with the ladies and dancing the night away with them?” she asked with a quirk of her brow. 

“I’ll not be so busy that I won’t be able to steal a dance with you, Sansa. Promise me?”

“Very well then, Jon. I promise.” She patted the side of his face and Jon leaned into her touch, wanting so desperately to kiss her. Her gaze dropped to his lips and then she pushed out of his arms and hurried out the door, calling goodbye to him. 

_She is going to be the death of me_ , he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, who is looking forward to the ball? What do you think will happen?


	11. Chapter 11

_Jon was on top of Sansa, his mouth marking a path from her chin to the top of her breasts. Sansa shifted against him, wanting his mouth on her breasts in the worst way. She really hoped he –_

_Oh, yes, he did. He yanked her bodice down, baring her breasts to his feasting mouth—_

Sansa started awake at the sound of her door shutting rather loudly and then her maid bustles in the room, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, mi’lady,” she rushes out. “I didn’t mean for the door to slam shut—”

Sansa held up a hand. “No, no, do not fret, Mary. It is fine. What time is it?”

“A bit after ten.”

Sansa sat up. “Yes, see? Time for me to get up. I’d like to take breakfast in my room this morning, Mary.”

“Yes, mi’lady,” Mary said and bowed quickly before rushing out of the room. 

Sansa lay back down on the bed and rubbed her thighs together as she called up her dream. Oh bother, she thought. She threw back her covers before she did anything like try to relieve her ache on her own. It was bad enough she felt as though she’d made a fool of herself by asking Jon to be her lover, and now she was considering touching herself in ways she’d never touched herself before? Heavens, what was wrong with her?

Sansa was excellent at putting things in their place, and so she shifted her attention from thinking about her dream to thinking about the last minute details she and Jon had to finish up before the ball. 

It was harder than she’d thought, and blast the man for it. It wasn’t the man she wanted to dwell on today, but his ball that night. Tomorrow she would deal with him. Or not, as the case may be. He might just find some very lovely lady to court that night and Sansa would be but a distant memory to him. 

There was nothing Sansa liked more than to be right about something, but it was irksome to think she might not enjoy it if it turned out that all Jon needed was a push to find a woman he could connect to. Even if ultimately he was just trying to prove a point to her, what if it ended up that he really did end up wanting someone else?

“Well, then, that just means that what he said he felt wasn’t real,” Sansa said aloud. “And I would have saved us both from a lifetime of misery by not agreeing to be his wife.”

“Mi’lady?”

Sansa looked over her shoulder and turned red when she saw Mary standing in her doorway with a tray of food and tea. _Now he’s got me talking to myself, blasted man,_ Sansa thought and waved Mary forward. 

xxxxxxxx

Jon supposed the ball was a success. People had come. They were laughing and dancing and partaking of the refreshments he’d put out. Nothing disastrous had happened. At least not yet anyway. So, yes, the ball was a success. He supposed Sansa was proud. He would have liked to ask her, but the blasted woman was nowhere to be found. 

He wondered if this was by design. He’d remained true to his word thus far. He’d danced with almost every eligible female in the room. Lady Margaery had been first. He’d caught a glimpse of Sansa across the room then and she’d looked away from him and lost herself in the crush. 

Jon didn’t like it when Sansa wasn’t where he could find her. Particularly with one Jaime Lannister in attendance…

Finally, he saw her, standing with Theon Greyjoy and her friend Jeyne. Theon was so red, Jon worried for a minute that he was ill, but then he saw the small smile on the man’s face and the smile on Jeyne’s. Bloody hell, Jon thought. Sansa had done it. She had brought the two of them together and it appeared that she’d been right in her assumption that they’d suit well. 

How could one woman be so perceptive about everyone else but herself? Jon wondered. 

Just as he was about to head over to his lady love, the swell of music began and he remembered the dance he’d promised to a lady in attendance. 

Sansa was next, no matter what. 

xxxxxxxxx

Sansa situated herself so that she could be in view of Jon dancing with yet another lady, and could still be readily available to serve as a verbal…lubricator of sorts, between Jeyne and Theon. 

“My Lady Sansa, I have felt sorely neglected this evening.”

Sansa looked over her shoulder at Jaime, who had been the one to whisper in her ear. She smiled. “I apologize, Mr. Lannister, but you have appeared quite busy dancing and meeting the lovely people of our town.”

He rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes, the curse of being new. I am free now though. May I have this dance?”

She smiled. “You may.”

It would take her mind off Jon and how he’d been dancing and laughing and smiling at every lady he came in contact with. She excused herself from Theon and Jeyne and hoped they managed without her. Bringing the two of them together had been difficult, the both of them being so shy and hesitant about meeting. She hadn’t planned to leave them alone, but now that the opportunity had presented itself to escape and do some dancing of her own, she took it. 

“I see your friend Mr. Snow has been busy himself this evening,” Jaime said as he gathered her in for their dance. 

Sansa didn’t want to talk about Jon. She’d spent the night trying not to follow his every movement about the room. Every time he smiled at a woman or laughed, something dark twisted inside her. She didn’t like the feeling. Not one whit. 

“Hmmm, yes, I suppose,” she replied. 

Jaime’s brow arched. “You do not like it.”

“Must we talk about this? This has been my first dance all evening and I would rather not spend it discussing Jon.”

He looked thoughtful for a minute. “I’ve an idea of what might help.”

The mischievous glint in Jaime’s eyes gave her slight pause. But only slight. She still allowed him to sweep her around the room and then off the dance floor and then out onto the veranda. He let her out of his arms and then grasped her hand and laughed like a naughty child as he ran down the nearby stairs and down to the pillars below. 

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh as well – softly, so as to not draw any attention to themselves. This, she knew, was scandalous. Even if all they did was talk, if someone came upon them alone together in the dark her reputation would be in tatters. 

She was about to tell him that perhaps they should return when he turned and kissed her, taking her completely by surprise. 

Even more surprising was the fact that she felt nothing when he kissed her. Not even a glimmer of what she felt when Jon kissed her. 

How utterly disappointing. 

She moved her head to the side to stop the kiss, but it didn’t stop Jaime. He instead latched onto her neck. She gasped not in pleasure but in surprise. He took it for encouragement and fit his hand on her breast. 

There was another gasp, but this time not from her. 

“Oh my!” she heard loudly. 

Jaime sprang away from her and they both looked up to find Miss Roslin Frey looking down at them with her hand over her mouth. 

Sansa held up her hands to shush her when the other girl ran from the veranda and into the ball. Sansa looked at Jaime, her eyes wide. “Oh, no oh no oh no!” she exclaimed and ran up the stairs. She had to stop this. She couldn’t let Roslin tell anyone about this. 

She burst into the ballroom and she found it was already too late. Roslin’s little group of friends by the wall and stopped and stared at her and Jaime. Sansa turned to tell Jaime that it was going to be fine, she’d figure this out but…

He was not there. 

Where in the world –

A hand clamped onto her arm and Sansa started as she looked back and up. Robb stood before her looking furious, and Roslin Frey stood behind him looking triumphant. “I need to speak with you, Sansa,” Robb hissed. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Jon had been to enough balls to know when something was amiss. Whispers and murmurs were spreading like wildfire among his guests and Jon searched the crowd wildly for Sansa. If anyone knew what was going on, it would be Sansa. God, he hoped the gossip wasn’t about him and all the ladies he’d danced with that evening. 

Then he saw Robb practically dragging Sansa from the ballroom and Talisa following behind them quickly. His stomach dropped. Something had happened, all right. Something had happened to Sansa. He pushed his way through the crush when Roslin Frey stepped into his path and smirked at him. “Running off so soon, Mr. Snow? You did promise me a dance.”

“I, uh, I need to find Lord Stark first, Miss Frey—”

“Oh, my. Did you hear then?” 

Jon’s eyes narrowed. He’d never much cared for Roslin Frey. She and Sansa had never quite got on well together, and after Sansa had steered Robb toward Talisa and away from Roslin, Roslin had been especially terrible to Sansa ever since. 

“I saw Mr. Lannister and Sansa kissing outside,” Roslin said. She looked proud. 

Jon heard a roaring in his ears. His stomach twisted and his hands balled into fists. He was torn between finding Jaime Lannister and going after Robb and Sansa. He decided to go for Sansa first. 

He stormed through the crowd, a veritable thundercloud that people parted like the Red Sea for. 

He found Robb, Sansa, and Talisa in his library. Robb was red in the face when he looked at Jon. Sansa was on the settee hunched over and crying. Talisa sat beside her, an arm around her shoulders. 

Robb sighed. “You’ve heard.”

“Everyone’s heard,” Jon said through gritted teeth. “What the devil happened, Sansa? Is it true?”

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face and he held back from going to her. “He did kiss me, Jon, _he_ kissed _me_ – I didn’t want him to and I didn’t ask him to. He just did. And when I moved my head away he kissed my neck. The he put his hand on my... I didn’t want any of it, I swear to you!”

Jon believed her. He knew Sansa well enough to know that this was not Sansa being upset because she’d been caught. He’d seen her get in plenty of scrapes when she’d been clearly at fault and instead of crying about it, she would charm her way out of trouble. 

Jon turned to leave and Sansa called after him. “Where are you going?” She sounded as though she didn’t want him to leave. 

Jon heaved in a deep sigh and said, “To find Mr. Lannister. It appears there will be pistols at dawn.” Sansa cried out in clear dismay. He looked at Robb. “You’ll be my second?”

Robb nodded. 

This sent both Sansa and Talisa into a fit, but Jon didn’t wait to hear their attempt to stop them. He slipped out the door, hands fisted. The way he was feeling, pistols at dawn might not even happen. He might just wring Jaime Lannister’s neck where he stood.


	12. Chapter 12

As soon as Jon shut the door behind him, Sansa was up and running to it. 

“Sansa, what are you doing?” Robb hissed. 

“I’m going to stop Jon from engaging in a duel, as you should be!” she told him and slipped out the door before Robb or Talisa could stop her. 

Jon was halfway down the hall, heading towards the ballroom and Sansa ran down the hall, catching him before he could make it inside. She grabbed his arm and yanked, causing him to angle backwards. 

He looked over at her and scowled. “Sansa, bloody hell, what are you doing?”

“Stopping you from doing something stupid,” she said and attempted to pull him away from the doors. 

“Sansa, he forced himself on you and your reputation is going to be in tatters because of what he did.”

“You know as well as I do that it doesn’t matter if he’s at fault or not. The reputation of a woman is soiled the instant a man, who is not her husband, touches her, and someone sees it; it doesn’t matter if I allowed his attentions or not.”

“Be that as it may, he still forced himself on you and he will not get away with it!”

“I don’t even think he’s here any longer,” Sansa told him. “I thought he’d followed me back up to the ball, but when I’d turned around he was gone. I think he might have run away.”

Jon ground his teeth together. “Like the bloody coward that he is! Fine. I’ll just pay him a visit.”

“No, you will not,” Sansa said with a stomp of her foot. 

“Sansa—”

“I won’t hear of it, Jon. There is nothing to be gained from pistols at dawn. All it will do is churn the rumor mill that much more. Everyone will wonder why a man, who is not my husband, has challenged another man to a duel. It will only serve to make things worse. Think about the field day they’d all have wondering why you felt the need to defend my honor. They’d wonder if I’d been promised to you or if we were lovers. It’s best to let this go.”

Jon’s hands were balled into fists at his side and he didn’t think it was possible to clench them together any tighter, but he did. 

“Please, Jon, please do not pursue this,” she begged. “I don’t want you to be hurt.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you assume I would be the one to be hurt?”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “I’m not assuming anything save that there is a chance you could be and I do not want that. Believe it or not, I do actually care about you a great deal, Jon Snow.” She reached out and took one of his balled fists in her hand and rubbed gently until his hand went lax and she was able to uncoil his fingers. “Please, Jon. Please don’t do this.”

“Did he hurt you?” he rasped. 

She shook her head. “No.”

“I want him to apologize,” Jon told her. “If he’s worth anything, he should apologize to you for forcing a kiss on you and for…touching you.” He gripped her hand. “And if he left to leave you to deal with the fallout of this…” He moved his head to the side and Sansa heard the crack of his neck. 

“All will be well in time,” she murmured. She didn’t feel very certain of that however. The ruination of one’s reputation could leave a tarnish on her and her family for years and the thought upset her a great deal. More for Robb and Talisa than herself, actually. They were planning to start a family soon and it unsettled Sansa to think that their child would not be welcomed the same because of what she’d done. 

“I should have never followed him,” she whispered. “I know better. He may have taken liberties, but I was the one that went with him, knowing that just being alone with him those few minutes could have had the same result as all this. I’m sorry, Jon.”

“Why are you sorry?” he demanded. 

“Because I ruined your ball. And it was such a success!”

“I don’t give a bloody damn about the ball. I only had it for you…”

“Which just somehow makes this all worse.”

“Sansa.” They both turned to find Robb and Talisa coming toward them. “I think it best we return home now,” Robb said. 

“No,” Jon said, surprising everyone. He looked at Sansa. “I think it best we go in there and carry on with the ball. They’ll all expect you to turn tail and run.” He forced a smile. “Besides, you did promise me a dance.”

Sansa shook her head. “You cannot dance with me now, Jon. Dancing with me will sully your reputation right along with mine.”

“You think I give a fig about my reputation? I don’t. It’s you I care about – the whole family. I’m not going to turn my back on you now. I will align myself with you even if you chose to walk through the fires of hell.”

“Well, hopefully it’s not as dire as all that,” Robb muttered. “However, perhaps Jon is right about not leaving. We’ll go in and show our faces. We’ll see right quick who our true friends are.”

Jon held out his arm for Sansa. “My Lady Stark.”

She hesitated, looking uncertain and worried. 

“Come on, brave girl,” Jon said. “You’ve never backed down from a challenge before. Don’t lose your courage now.”

With a deep breath for confidence, Sansa slipped her arm through Jon’s and together, with Robb and Talisa behind them, they walked back into the ball. 

A hushed silence fell over the room and then the whispers and murmurs began. Sansa lifted her chin and looked as regal as the Queen as she strode into the room with Jon. Jon couldn’t help the smile that came at seeing her present such a façade. And he knew it was a façade because he could feel the tremble that went through her at his side. 

He led them to the orchestra and bid them play. They did so and Jon swept Sansa into a dance just as Robb swept Talisa up into one. At first they were the only pair dancing. And then, to Jon’s great surprise, the Westerlings and Greyjoys joined in – save for Theon and Jeyne, but that wasn’t surprising. Theon may have come far, but he still had further to go. Then, Lady Margaery and her family soon joined in. 

Sansa looked at Jon in surprise and with tears in her eyes. 

“You see, sweet girl, you see how you are loved?” Jon asked. 

She nodded, and when that dance ended, Jon, and all the couples that had joined them went to stand together as a group at the outskirts of the dance floor. Theon and Jeyne approached the group and showed their support in standing with them all. 

It didn’t surprise Jon too much when people started to leave shortly after that, but it was also rather late and so it was hard to gauge whether it was because of Sansa or because of the late hour. However, Sansa must have thought it was because of her due to the crestfallen look on her face when the crowd began to thin. 

“I take it the duel is not happening?” Robb managed to ask Jon discreetly while Sansa spoke with Theon and Jeyne. 

“Sansa believes it would only cause more trouble,” Jon told him. 

“She may be right, but what I wouldn’t give to punch that peacock in his smug face.”

“I may not meet him at dawn, Robb, but I do plan to make sure to seek retribution for Sansa nonetheless. Care to join me at noon tomorrow in seeking him out?”

Robb grinned. “Definitely.”

xxxxxxxxx

Jaime Lannister had disappeared. When questioned, this staff of servants said he had come home late, packed up a few things, and departed for they knew not where. 

It didn’t matter. 

Robb vibrated with anger as he and Jon took his coach back to the Stark’s. “I know what he thought – that I’d make him marry Sansa. I would not have saddled her with him at all!”

“Something tells me a man like Jaime Lannister has had much experience with this sort of thing,” Jon added. 

“No doubt it was why he’d left London to begin with,” Robb groused. 

“Did you ever hire that private investigator?”

Robb nodded. “Yes. I had hoped information would have come before the ball.”

“Agreed.”

“I do wonder if he’ll dare show his face here again.”

“He might. After he’s sure enough time has passed and he doesn’t have to worry about having to marry Sansa.”

Robb fell silent and then after some time he sighed and said, “She will have to marry now. With you backing her last night, followed by the Greyjoys, Tyrells, and Westerlings, she has support. But her support would be stronger if she married. That is, if you still want to.”

Jon sighed. He had thought about that as well, but he hadn’t wanted to be the one to bring it up to Sansa. “It’s not a matter of whether or not I want to marry Sansa, Robb. Of course I do. It’s a matter of will she agree? Even now?”

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much of a choice,” Robb murmured. 

Jon just looked at him. “You know you won’t make your sister do anything she doesn’t want to do. You’re not that kind of brother, nor are you that kind of man.”

“Yes, but I had also never imagined that a scandal would visit us. Things change.”

Jon wondered if Sansa saw it that way, too. 

xxxxxxxxx

When Jon and Robb arrived back to the estate, Sansa and Talisa met them at the door inquiring on whether or not they’d been able to confront Jaime. When Jon told them that Jaime had fled, Sansa looked rather…sad. Jon was afraid to ask what that meant and, truthfully, it made him quite angry. 

“May I speak with you alone, Sansa?” Jon asked, trying not sound angry, but he feared his inquiry came out angry nonetheless. 

She nodded. “Of course.” She followed him, hands folded in front her, to the veranda while Robb and Talisa departed for the drawing room. 

Once outside, Jon turned on her. “Are you truly upset that he’s fled? Did you wish to marry him, Sansa?”

Sansa looked at him in surprise. “Pardon?”

“You looked upset when you learned that he’d fled.”

“I am upset. I am upset with myself mostly.”

She’d managed to surprise him again. “Pardon?”

She sighed. “I was very wrong about him, about the manner of man he was. You know how I hate being wrong.”

Jon barked out a laugh. He wanted to take her in his arms, but he didn’t know if that would be welcome so he forced himself to keep his hands to himself. “Oh, Sansa, what am I going to do with you? He has not injured you then?”

She sighed and shook her head. “No. He has not injured me. Well, aside from the dark cloud of scandal that follows me now, but no. I admit I was a bit taken with him, but it was more that he was new and different than it was actually _him_. When he kissed me I felt nothing. Not like when…” she trailed off and then shook her head. “Jon, I have something to ask you.” She reached out and grasped his hands. 

He looked up at her in surprise. _She_ was initiating contact?

“I’ve been thinking about how to salvage some part of my reputation and that of my family. You told me once… all right, more than once – that you wished to marry me. I see now that I must be married if I am to recover my standing in society. With you as my husband, well-respected as you are, I know it is possible. I cannot even begin to express to you how thankful I am to you for how you rescued me and my family last night by showing them all you are not afraid to stand with us. It meant the absolute world to me. And so, I come to you now, fully humbled and so grateful to you for everything, to ask you if you will please marry me now?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about a treat? :) Since you've all been so wonderful at showing some love! :)

Jon wanted to feel happy – exultant – about Sansa asking him if he’d still marry her now. He wanted to be able to take her in his arms and have it be joyous, an acceptance that they belonged to one another. In short, he wanted Sansa to love him and want to marry him because she couldn’t imagine living her life without him in it, just as he couldn’t imagine his without her. 

Yet it was necessity and gratitude that brought her to this conclusion that they should be wed, and not love. If they had the luxury of time Jon would wait until she did love him, but they didn’t have that and considering Robb had all but asked him if he would marry Sansa, Jon didn’t feel he had much time to wait. He knew they needed to act fast when it came to the process of restoring her reputation. 

“Jon?” Sansa pressed, looking up at him worriedly and questioningly. Did she really think he would say no? Did she think that he could? His honor was on the line here. His honor as a man helping a lady when she asked for it, and his honor with the Starks and their history. 

“Yes, Sansa, I will marry you. Your brother and I had come to the same conclusion that you should be wed. Since you do not have any other suitors, it seems as if the task should fall to me.”

She winced at that and Jon couldn’t say he wasn’t pleased about that. He’d said that last bit to sting her a little just as her “proposal” had stung him. It was perhaps in bad taste considering what she was going through at that moment, but her asking him to marry her out of gratitude and for the sole purpose of saving her reputation was hurtful. Did she not understand that? 

She nodded and folded her hands before her again. “Thank you, Jon. Shall we tell Robb?”

Jon gestured to her. “Lead the way, my Lady.”

The joy that was lacking between Jon and Sansa was found with Robb and Talisa. Talisa wanted to start preparations right away, and Robb sent for a bottle of champagne so they could toast the engagement. 

When Jon had imagined this moment, he had imagined having an arm around Sansa and the both of them unable to contain their happiness. He had imagined long looks of love shared between them, Sansa wrapped around him, unable to leave his side for even a moment…

Instead, he and Sansa barely spoke and when it came time for him to leave she did walk him to the door and kissed his cheek with a heartfelt “Thank you”. 

Jon turned away from her abruptly and told her he’d see her on the morrow and bring his mother’s ring for her to wear. She nodded, lips pursed, and went back inside. 

xxxxxxx

Jon didn’t want to marry her anymore. Sansa knew it; had seen it in the way he’d looked at her. He’d looked so hard so…resigned. Despite his standing beside her at the ball, that didn’t mean that after he’d had some time to think about it, he hadn’t figured out that aligning himself with her might just ruin him as well. 

_Well_ , she thought with a sadness that she hadn’t anticipated, _I suppose his ‘love’ only went so far. He doesn’t actually love me at all._

The fact that she’d been right about that didn’t bring her any comfort this time. Instead she tried to think of ways around this, ways to prevent them having to marry and yet still redeem her reputation. She could think of nothing, which troubled her considering she thought she was well adept at coming up with solutions. 

This whole mess had definitely addled her mind. 

When Jon came by the next afternoon, he placed the ring on her finger quickly – he hadn’t even asked for a moment alone with her – and then went to visit with Robb while Talisa and Sansa made plans for the wedding. 

“What is amiss?” Talisa asked after Jon had left the drawing room. 

Sansa tore her eyes away from Jon’s retreating form and looked at her. “Pardon?”

“Sansa, for as long as I’ve known you and Jon, he has never rushed out of any room you’re in. And I’ve never seen you look so sad or… _longingly_ after him.”

“I did not look longingly after him,” Sansa said haughtily. 

“What is going on between you two?” Talisa asked, eyes narrowed. 

“It is as I suspected,” Sansa said. “It is as I knew all along, actually. He doesn’t love me at all. My reputation is tarnished and he’s washed his hands of me.”

“Clearly he has not considering he’s given you his mother’s ring.”

Sansa sniffed. “He does it out of honor, out of his friendship to my family and his loyalty to Robb. Not because of me.”

“You are wrong,” Talisa said. “Tell me, what happened when you approached him about being your lover.”

“He denied me, claiming it was my love he wanted, not just to share my bed. That’s not important.”

“I think it is. If all he wanted was to make love to you, Sansa, then he would have taken you up on your offer. Why marry you and demand your love if he could have what he truly wanted – by your decree – which is to have you in his bed?”

Sansa sighed. “Did you notice how he paid court to all the women at his ball?”

“I did. I wondered at that.”

“I told him he didn’t truly want me and that if he gave someone else a chance—”

“Sansa, my goodness! I never took you for a fool!”

“What is foolish about that?” Sansa demanded. 

“And how did it feel to watch him pay court to all those ladies?”

Sansa shifted in her seat.

“It made you unhappy, didn’t it?” Talisa asked. 

“Talisa—”

“And that’s why you allowed Mr. Lannister to whisk you out of the ball, because you were upset watching Jon with other ladies!” She looked quite proud of herself. Sansa glared at her, and Talisa ignored her. “Tell me; how exactly did the proposal come about yesterday, Sansa.”

“I was direct with him—”

“Hold on. He did not ask you? You asked him?”

Sansa blinked. “Well, yes. He had already asked, sort of, before. I thanked him for what he did at the ball by dancing with me and standing with us, and then I told him that it was clear I had to marry now in an attempt to restore my reputation, and since he was well-liked and respected in society that if he would have me still I would marry him.”

Talisa buried her face in her hands. Sansa stared at her, unsure of what to make of this. “What is it?” she demanded of her sister-in-law. 

Talisa dropped her hands and looked at Sansa in exasperation. “No wonder he’s acting the way he is! Sansa, you basically told him that you didn’t want to actually marry him for _him_ , but only because you had to, and that it might _as well_ be him because you were grateful to him!”

“But I am grateful to him!”

“That’s not the sort of thing Jon wants to hear from the woman he’s in love with! He wants to hear that you want to marry him for _him_ , not because you think marriage is the only recourse available to you—”

“But it is the only recourse available to me!”

“Sansa, you made him out to be some kind of bloody consolation prize. You hurt his feelings! You didn’t make it about him and the fact that you care about him—”

“But I do care about him!”

“Then you need to tell him that,” Talisa said. 

“I did! I told him the night of the ball when he was stupidly going off to challenge Mr. Lannister to a duel that I cared about him a great deal.”

“He needed to hear those words from you yesterday, Sansa.”

Sansa blinked. “Again?”

“Yes, and without all those other words you said.”

“But all those other things I said were true, Talisa. I am grateful to him. I do have to marry.”

Talisa sighed. “Yes, I know all that, but you could…you could sweeten it, dear. You’ve approached him about being your lover previous to this. Might you let him know that you are still attracted to him and perhaps you are looking forward to seeing where your marriage may lead?”

“Where can it lead?” 

Talisa got up then and rubbed her forehead. “I feel a headache coming on. If you’ll excuse me, we’ll plan some more later.”

Sansa watched her go, feeling utterly at a loss. She felt a headache coming on as well, actually. She sat back and thought over her conversation with Jon the day before, and her conversation with Talisa just now. She thought about the exact moment Jon’s demeanor had changed with her and he’d become so cold and distant. 

_Oh, blast_ , she thought. _Talisa is right, much to my chagrin. Men. Who knew they could be so utterly sensitive?_

She got up and marched down to the library where Robb and Jon were and barged her way in. Jon looked up in surprise as he sat in the window seat, and Robb arched his brow from where he sat at his desk. “Sansa, something you need?” Robb asked. 

“I would like to speak to my fiancé alone if you don’t mind,” Sansa said. 

Robb frowned and looked at Jon and then back at Sansa. “I don’t know if—”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Robb, do you really think it matters what might happen now in light of everything else?”

Jon turned his head and Sansa swore she could see a smile beginning to form on his lips. Robb sighed and got up. “Fine.” He pointed at her. “Door stays open.”

“Yes, yes,” she said and waved him off. 

He left and Sansa looked at Jon who turned to face her, still seated. She held up a finger and then went to the door and peered down the hall. Robb was nowhere in sight. 

She shut the door. 

Jon looked as though he was struggling not to laugh as Sansa came over to him and sat down beside him. “It has _occurred_ to me that perhaps I was a bit…insensitive yesterday.”

Jon pretended to look appalled. “You?”

She shot him a withering look. “Jon, let us clear the air now, please. I do not particularly enjoy feeling as though you do not wish to marry me after all.”

He sighed. “Sansa, you made it clear to me that all you feel for me is gratitude. You’ve also made it clear that this is only to save your reputation. Have you any idea how that feels?”

“But those things are true – I am grateful, and I do need to wed to save my reputation –”

“Sansa—”

“But it is also true that I care for you, and that I’m attracted to you. I did ask you to be my lover, remember?”

His mouth fell open and then he cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said, nodding, “I remember.”

“Having never been married before I do not know what to expect, but…but I have come to understand through Talisa that…that bedchamber activities are quite enjoyable once wed and since I did ask you to be my lover once I obviously believe that we’d get on well in that respect. Now, please tell me true, Jon. Do you want to marry me? Or do you wish to be free? If you wish to be free, please do not concern yourself with any obligation you feel toward Robb or my family. If there is another woman you had in mind after the ball—”

“You blasted woman, of course there isn’t another woman,” Jon said and took her face in his hands. “Can you stop talking, for the love of God, and let me kiss you?”

She smiled, but then kissed _him_ instead of the other way around.


	14. Chapter 14

While Sansa and Talisa made preparations for the wedding, Jon made preparations of his own for Sansa. He set up a bedchamber for Sansa, though he hoped she would prefer to sleep with him in his bed instead of holding separate chambers the way most married couples of the ton did. 

While he may not have everything he wanted with his upcoming nuptials – such as Sansa’s love – he was hopeful. She’d admitted she wanted him – and he knew that she did, but it was nice hear again nonetheless. It had gotten lost in her speech about gratitude and having no other recourse but to wed. Maybe they weren’t on the same page yet but now he knew that Sansa was willing to try to make their marriage work. 

At least he hoped she was. 

Not that he knew all that much about marriage, but he did know that for him and Sansa to work there had to be communication and compromise. Sansa didn’t like to give much when she got something in her head, nor did she express herself well. Sometimes she just expected others to know exactly what she meant when she said something, but as evidenced by her shoddy acceptance of his expressed wish to wed her, there was a disconnect between what she said and what she meant. 

Since Jon hadn’t seen much of Sansa in the few weeks leading up to their wedding, he made a point to pull her away from the last minute preparations and let Talisa handle them while he enticed her for a ride to the pond. 

The flush of her cheeks as she rode Artemis told him that Sansa had needed this break desperately. She positively beamed at him when she climbed down off her horse and fed her oats as a treat. Jon did the same with Orion and he smiled as he listened to Sansa coo at her horse. Then she kicked off her shoes and unrolled her stockings, plopping them on the ground beside her and made the trek down to the water to stick her feet in. 

Jon followed suit, discarding his boots and stockings and then made his way down to the water to join her. He came up behind her and dragged her back against him, nuzzling at her neck. She giggled softly and he smiled against her neck. “This time you’re not so shy about showing me your ankles,” he murmured. 

“Well, I did ask you to be my lover and tomorrow you’ll be my husband. I figure I can cast off some proprieties now,” she said and spun around in his arms. She smiled up at him. “Besides, I’m a scandalous woman now, I might as well live up to it.”

“You’re taking this quite in stride.”

She sighed. “A little. It was hurtful to have some invitations sent back with a resounding no, they would not be attending our wedding.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “Does it bother you at all?”

“Not one whit,” he said and leaned in until he could feel her breath on his face. “The only one I require to be at our wedding is my bride.” And then he kissed her hungrily. He kissed her until she was soft and clinging to him and then he lifted her and walked them to the grass. He set her down on her feet and then urged her to sit down upon the grass. He followed her down, but instead of sitting next to her as she probably thought he would, he pushed her back and climbed over her. He grinned down at her and her eyes went wide. She looked a bit nervous. 

“Jon?” 

He fitted himself against her and hummed against her neck as he nuzzled her there. “Hmmmm?”

“What are you doing?” 

“Giving you a preview of what you can expect tomorrow night,” he said and licked at her pulse. She jerked in his arms and he smiled as he trailed kisses to the top of her bodice. “Have I ever told you how utterly beautiful you are, Lady Sansa?”

“No, Mr. Snow, you have not,” she whispered and arched her back a bit, presenting her breasts to him. He smiled against the top of one breast. Someone liked what he’d done for her before and wanted more. 

He lifted his head instead of giving her what she wanted, and looked at her. She frowned slightly and he leaned in and kissed her. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Sansa.”

“I would remind you that you haven’t seen all the women in the world to make such a claim,” she said, but he could hear the teasing in her voice. 

He kissed her and fit one hand over her breast. She sighed into his mouth and he inhaled, taking her very breath into his body. “I love you,” he whispered as he dug his hand under her bodice. “I love you, my lady.”

“Jon,” she whimpered and arched further into his hand. 

As much as Jon loved her breasts though, there was something else he wanted. 

He slid his hand from her bodice and then down her body. He began to bunch up her skirts. Her eyes flew to his in question. “Trust me,” he murmured. “You’ll like this.”

“Is it what you did before?” she asked breathlessly. “I did like that. Very much.”

“Yes and no,” he replied and then slid down her body. He pushed the rest of her skirts up and pulled down her pantalets. 

“Jon?” Sansa said nervously. “What are you doing down there?”

“Trust me,” he repeated. 

“I don’t know if I can – oh! Oh my!”

Jon grinned against her bared quim. And then licked her again. As he sent to work rolling his tongue around the bud he knew would bring her such pleasure and inserting a finger inside her, Sansa babbled to him. “Is this what married couples do? …My, but this is quite scandalous…one’s private areas are not meant for mouths – oh, dear God, Jon, it’s happening again.”

He would have laughed had he not be so intent on tasting her sweetness and making her come for him. When her legs went taut, and she cried out, wetting his beard, he knew he’d succeeded. He lapped up her juices happily until she was attempting to move away from his seeking tongue. 

Jon slid back up her body and smiled at her utterly dazed expression. She blinked as she looked at him. “That is what I have to look forward to tomorrow night?”

He nodded. “Yes. Did you like it?”

“Oh my goodness, yes,” she breathed and then leaned up to kiss him, but then paused. “Will I…will you…”

“Will you taste yourself on me?” he asked softly. “Yes, my love, you will. I dare you…”

He knew that would get her. She kissed him and moaned. 

Jon rubbed himself against her, seeking friction for his straining erection. _Tomorrow_ , he thought, _tomorrow I will finally be able to make love to her._

He couldn’t wait. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Sansa stood nervously with her brother, ready to make her trek down the aisle to meet Jon. She had never felt so nervous in all her life. It wasn’t just the wedding itself, but the whole thing. Marriage. She never thought she’d be a wife. 

“Do you feel like running?” Robb asked as he placed his hand over hers that was on his arm. 

“Yes. Can I?”

He smiled. “No. But it’s normal to feel that way.”

“I don’t know how to be a wife, Robb.”

“How could you? You’ve never been one before. You think Jon knows how to be a husband?”

Strangely, that was comforting. She looked up at her brother. “Did you want to run when you were waiting for Talisa?”

He smiled down at her. “I had a moment where I did.”

“Do you think Jon is having that moment right now?”

“I’m sure it’s crossed his mind. It’s the fear of the unknown that gets you. Plus knowing that your life is about to change in a profound way.”

“How much did your life change, Robb?”

Robb patted her hand. “Several things changed, but not badly. Just different. It’s a new life, but when you’re with someone that you love and care about, it makes everything better.”

“I care for Jon but I don’t think I love him,” Sansa said worriedly. 

Robb arched a brow. “That’s debatable.” Sansa rolled her eyes and Robb grinned. “Listen, Sansa, let me just give you some advice, all right?”

“Of course.”

“Be kind to Jon. Remember that he is not just your husband, he is your friend. Remember also that he loves you. Try your hardest to compromise – I know how difficult that is for you. And listen – really listen.”

Sansa nodded. “I think I can do all that.”

“Well, I’m sure some bits will be more difficult than others.”

Sansa pinched him and he yelped. She smiled up at him innocently and he smiled too. “And if he hurts you,” Robb said, “You tell me and I’ll take care of it.”

She smiled. “Thank you, big brother.”

And then the doors were opened and down the aisle they went.


	15. Chapter 15

Jon didn’t remember much about the ceremony itself. Only snippets. To him, the most important parts of the ceremony: Sansa walking toward him, Robb giving her away, Sansa’s hand in his (he wasn’t sure if it was her hands or his that trembled. Possibly both), both of them saying “I will” at the appropriate times. 

Kissing her for the first time as his wife. 

The Wedding Breakfast was next, and while it was nice to have all their friends in one place celebrating their wedding, Jon was already anticipating getting Sansa alone.

Every once in a while he would look at her and think, _Sansa is my wife. She’s mine now. She’s really mine._

He was amazed each and every time. She teased him still, the way Sansa was wont to do, but he could still sense the apprehension in her. She wasn’t thinking of him being her husband the same way he was thinking of her as his wife. She was more or less probably thinking – Goodness, am I really married? Is Jon really my husband?

“Are you anxious to get home, Jon?” Robb asked as he sat down beside Jon at the table while Sansa spoke with her friends across the room. 

Jon eyes Robb warily. “I’m afraid to say yes.”

Robb laughed. “And why is that?”

“Because if I say yes you’ll know exactly what it is I am eager to get home and do,” he replied. “And I am quite certain that would result in you punching me.”

“Yes, you’re probably right.” Robb sighed and looked out across the room at his sister and smiled. “I told her to remember you love her. And to remember that you are friends.”

“When did you tell her this?” Jon asked. 

“Before I walked her down the aisle.”

Jon smiled at his friend. “And what was her response?”

“She said she thought she could do that. Although I also told her to try to compromise and to remember to listen.”

Jon snorted. “I don’t have much faith in her ability to listen or compromise. Sansa listens just enough to plan her retort and the rest is lost.”

“You wanted this, remember.”

Jon watched Sansa laugh, her smile lighting up the entire room. “I did.”

“You should know that I also told her if you hurt her I’d take care of it.”

Jon cleared his throat and looked at Robb. “Yes, well, I think you should know that I would never do anything to intentionally hurt your sister.”

“I know that, but I wouldn’t be doing my job as her big brother if I didn’t threaten you.”

“Duly noted,” Jon said, and the friends shook hands.

xxxxxxxx

Jon sat back in the carriage as Sansa chattered on about the wedding breakfast – everything from the food to the decorations to the people in attendance. She was nervous. He didn’t think he’d ever see the day. Finally, he leaned forward, took Sansa’s face in his hands and kissed her. 

“Don’t be nervous…wife,” he said and grinned at her. “It’s still me”

She placed her hands over his and looked down. “I told Robb before and I’m going to tell you now, Jon – I don’t know how to be a wife.”

“Do you think I know how to be a husband?”

She looked at him with a bit of a smile. “Robb said that, too.”

Jon smiled and released her face. He sat back and regarded her thoughtfully. “Why don’t we address one thing that is making you nervous right now?”

She sighed and looked at him helplessly. “I cannot, Jon. It’s horribly indelicate.”

“So our wedding night is it then?”

She sighed and looked at him with her lips pursed. Finally, she said, “Yes.”

“Well, I suppose I cannot just tell you that everything will be fine and not to worry. I suppose that it will be something you check off your list of worries as it comes.” _Or, at least, when you do_ , he thought. “But you do remember yesterday at the pond?”

She flushed. “Yes.”

“It is my aim to make you feel that way again. Although I will admit that there will be some pain. It’s unavoidable.”

Sansa sighed and nodded. “Talisa told me all about it this morning.”

“Do you have any questions? Perhaps I could help alleviate some of your fears in this way?”

“Jon, really. We shouldn’t be talking about this now. It’s not even dark out.”

Jon laughed loudly and drew Sansa onto his lap. She flushed further. “It wasn’t dark when I tasted your sweet cunny,” he told her.

“Yes, that is true, but what if the driver heard us speaking about…this?”

“Then I shall whisper in your ear what it is I plan to do to you, my sweet Sansa,” he told her and nipped at her ear, causing her to shudder. 

“First I am going to undress you,” he said huskily in her ear, “and I am going to help you undress me.”

“Do you think I shall require help in undressing you, Jon? It can’t be that hard to figure out how to take your clothes off.”

“Sansa, sssshhh, I’m trying to tell you how I’m going to make love you.”

She nodded. “I apologize. Proceed.”

She was just so adorable that he couldn’t help but kiss her again. As he spoke, he pulled the ribbon of her bonnet undone under her chin. “I’m going taste you again,” he told her and she bit her lip. “I’m going to bring you to your climax with my mouth just like yesterday.”

“I like that,” she whispered. 

“I know,” he murmured and pulled her bonnet off. “And then I’m going to kiss every single inch of you before I take my cock—”

Sansa put her hand over his mouth. “Ssshhhh…”

He moved her hand away. “Do you not want to know?”

“I do know. Talisa told me. You’re going to put it inside me.” She frowned. “Will it fit, Jon? Is it possible that it won’t?”

“No, sweet girl, it will.”

She didn’t look convinced, but then they’d arrived at his estate and there were other things Jon and Sansa had to do before they could get to their wedding night. 

His staff was outside, waiting for him and Sansa and when they emerged from the carriage, they let out a loud cheer and threw rice. Sansa looked pleased, if not a bit embarrassed, and though they all knew Sansa, Jon made sure that his housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, and Sansa connected. Sansa was the lady of the house now and Jon entrusted her to know what was best for the house from now on. 

Afterwards, he took her to her bedchamber, the one that he’d taken the time to prepare for her and he was pleased when she told him how much she liked it. 

“If there is anything you want to change, darling, just let me know,” he told her. 

“No, Jon, I quite like what you’ve done. You’ve chosen all my favorite colors for the duvet and sheets.” She yawned then and turned to look at him sheepishly. “As a matter of fact, do you mind if I have a bit of lie down?”

He waggled his brows. “Would you like me to join you?”

She laughed as though he’d made a joke. “No, I think I’d like to have a bit of a nap. May I then call for a bath before dinner?”

“Sansa, this is your home now. You can do whatever you like.”

Sadness passed over her features and Jon knew she was thinking about Robb and Talisa and the Stark estate. Jon gathered her in his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “Sweetling, you can visit your brother and Talisa anytime you want. You know that, right?”

She nodded, smiling a bit. “I know. It’s just…different.”

“I know,” he murmured. “It will take some getting used to. There is no rush.”

“Thank you, Jon,” she said with a nod. 

He smiled and kissed her gently. “I will send your maid in to help you change.”

Sansa smiled at him thankfully and Jon left her, albeit reluctantly. Thankfully, while he and Sansa were getting married, staff had seen to moving Sansa’s clothing and things like her brushes and vanity into her bedchamber. Tomorrow, anything that was left over would be coming. 

Jon retired to his own bedchamber. Perhaps a nap wasn’t such a bad idea. Then, he would be well-rested for when he made love to his wife later that night.


	16. Chapter 16

It took a while for Sansa to actually relax enough to nap. Her mind had been racing, thinking over the events of the day, over what was to come, and how Robb and Talisa were doing. Did they miss her? Maybe instead they were enjoying having the house to themselves. But it made her feel better to think that they missed her at least a little.

Finally, she did sleep, only to be awakened all too soon to prepare for dinner. After a rather luxurious bath, she met Jon downstairs and all the while she kept thinking of what was coming. What if she hated the consummation of their marriage? Yes, she liked what Jon had done with his mouth, but what if she hated all the rest? Would Jon force her to endure the marriage bed even if she hated it? She was his wife now, after all. He could force her to endure it if that was what he wished because otherwise, she would be betraying her vows and going against her husband.

Oh, dear. This was exactly why she didn’t like this whole marriage business at all. Like Mary Wollstonecraft, she wanted the ability to make her own choices and not have to be subjected to the whims of her husband.

“Are you feeling well, Sansa?” Jon asked.

“I am, thank you,” she said. “I think I am ready to, uh, prepare…” She pushed away from the table.

He cleared his throat. “I see.” He looked up at her. “I will join you soon, my love.”

She nodded and departed, her hand over her stomach to hopefully calm her rioting nerves.

xxxxxxxx

Sansa stared at herself in the cheval mirror after her maid had departed smiling knowingly. Sansa bit her lip and pondered her appearance. She wore a soft green satin night gown edged with lace and tight to her bosom. She had been told it would entice her husband greatly. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, and Sansa moved it to cover her bosom.

“Knock, knock.”

Sansa sucked in a breath at the sound of Jon’s voice and when she turned she found him standing just inside the door, his jaw on the ground. He wore black trousers and a white shirt. His feet were bare and his shirt was open enough to reveal some of his bare chest. Sansa found her eyes drawn to that bit of flesh and she found it difficult to avert her eyes. 

“My God, Sansa,” he breathed and she jerked her gaze up to his. There was hunger in his eyes that made Sansa feel weak in the knees. She took a step backwards, but he prowled closer and closer and she forced herself to show no fear and stand her ground.

He placed his hands gently on her sides and she looked up at him. He grinned, leaned in, and kissed her deeply. She felt herself being swept up in his kisses and fisted the front of his shirt in her hands to keep herself from falling over. When Jon broke the kiss they were both breathless, but that didn’t stop him from trailing kisses along her jaw and then down her neck. He fisted her hair in his hand and gently tugged her head back so he could drop heated kisses down her slender neck and over the exposed top of her bosom. 

“I could make a feast of you,” he breathed. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve ached for you, Sansa. How I’ve dreamed of you in my arms...” He looked in her eyes then and the passion and love she saw there made her lose her breath. 

He lifted her then and carried her to the bed. When he laid her upon it, it was with a reverence that made her a tad uncomfortable. She watched him as he flung off his shirt and then set to work on his trousers. He kept his eyes on her, watching her watch him. 

When his pants were gone and it was just him, all of him naked before her, Sansa’s eyes went wide to the jutting proof of his desire. 

“That is definitely not going to fit, Jon Snow!” she burst out and scrambled back away from him on the bed. 

He laughed and grabbed hold of her ankle. He pulled her back towards him and slid his hands up her legs, pushing her night gown up as he did so. “Yes,” he assured her, “It will. A man and a woman were born to fit, sweetling. And you and I were definitely made for each other.”

When his hands found that sweet spot he’d tasted the day before, Sansa sucked in a breath. And then his fingers were moving against that spot and she felt heat begin to spread through her. He massaged her core with his fingers and watched her rapturously. Sansa’s eyes went wide and then she heard herself moan. 

“Oh, but you are good at that,” she whispered and when he sank one finger inside her, she cried out. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered and climbed onto the bed to lie beside her. He slipped his finger out of her and rubbed her mound gently. “How was that?”

She turned onto her side and rolled into him. “I didn’t know that was possible to do…that way.”

He smiled. “There are all sorts of ways, my love.”

“I think I might expire.”

He laughed. “Nonsense. You can’t. Because I plan to show you every single way I can make you come.”

Her eyes went wide. “Not all tonight, surely!”

He laughed again. “No, not all tonight. But I will definitely try my best…” He kissed her then and pushed her back onto the bed. When he broke their kiss he gazed down at her tenderly and then drew back and looked down the length of her. “Glorious,” he murmured and skimmed a hand over her body. 

Sansa felt the urge for something – to come again? – and moved restlessly against him. He looked down at her with heat in his eyes as though he knew exactly what she wanted and needed. In his eyes were a promise that he was going to give it all to her. 

“As lovely as this is,” he said as he fingered the night gown between his fingers. “It needs to go. I need to see all of you before I lose my mind.” 

Sansa bit her lip as Jon set about removing the night gown from her. “Jon,” she began to protest. “Maybe we could just keep it on…”

“No, Sansa. I want to see every inch of you. I know you’re nervous, my love. It’s frightening to show your body the first time, but I am your husband and I already think you are the most glorious creature I have ever laid eyes on. There is nothing for you to fear. Trust me, please?’

Sansa was hesitant, but then she nodded. She held her breath nonetheless when he discarded her nightgown. The cool air brushed her skin and she shivered. Tentatively she looked up at Jon and found the most rapturous look on his face. 

“You are a work of art,” he breathed. 

Self-consciously Sansa lifted her arms to cover her breasts, but Jon pushed them away with a shake of his head. “For now I feast with my eyes,” he told her and then grinned mischievously. “Then my body.”

Sansa swallowed hard and watched Jon look his fill. Then he began to touch her. All over. It was as if he was everywhere touching everything and Sansa felt on overload. She wanted to come again, she knew that for certain now and Jon seemed to be doing everything but making that happen. 

When his mouth latched onto one breast and he began to suckle at her, Sansa cried out, never realizing how glorious such a thing could feel. She clasped his head in her hands as he suckled at one breast and then the other until she was sobbing for more…more…more of something to make her come again. 

And then he moved over her and spread her legs wide. She stiffened when she felt his manhood pressing against her core and she looked up at him. He met her gaze straight on and whispered, “Trust me, sweetling. It will hurt at first but then it will feel like heaven. I promise.”

Sansa nodded, ready now to try this. If it was too horrible she would just tell him to stop and they’d never do it again. Hopefully. 

He pushed his way inside her slowly while keeping his gaze on hers and she winced as she felt a pinch. And then it was gone and all she felt was Jon inside of her. 

“That’s it?” she asked. 

He let out a laughing groan and dropped his forehead to hers. “Sansa, only you could completely emasculate me in such a moment.”

“I’m sorry?”

He laughed softly again. “It’s all right. I think I understand what you meant…do you mean is that the end of the pain?” She nodded and he smiled. “Yes, I think so. It might hurt a little, but not like that again.”

She moved against him experimentally. 

Jon groaned. “Do that again.”

She moved again and then he was moving, too. She felt the slip and slide of his body against hers, the feel of his manhood pressing harder and deeper inside her and she tried to think of something that felt comparable. There was nothing. 

“You feel amazing,” he whispered. “Like heaven and home. God, Sansa, I knew it would be like this with us.”

“Did you?” she panted. 

“Yes,” he breathed and moved faster and harder. 

Sansa gripped his shoulders and dug her nails into his skin. “Jon, I’m going to…I’m…”

“Yes, sweetling, let it happen. Come for me!”

And she did. It felt like it went on forever, this incredible feeling washing all over her and her eyes rolled back in her head and her toes curled. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and then Jon was crying out and moving even harder against her. 

He collapsed against her in the next instant and buried his face in her neck. “Oh God, Sansa…”

“Are you well?” she murmured and rubbed her face against his. 

He lifted his head and gazed down at her with a lazy smile. “I am beyond well…there are no words to describe how I feel right now. That was… there are not any words except fantastic, bloody brilliant and amazing.”

She laughed and buried her face in his neck, feeling shy. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “Look at me, Sansa.”

She looked up at him then and his look was fiercely tender. “I love you,” he said again, his words as fierce as his gaze. 

Sansa answered him by kissing him.


	17. Chapter 17

The next morning when Sansa woke, she found herself alone. She bit her lip as she sat up in bed wondering if perhaps she had done something wrong to upset Jon. She thought back on the night and after blushing as she remembered the consummation of their marriage, she could not think of anything she might have done to induce him to leave before she’d awakened. 

Then she rolled her eyes at herself. “I’m being ridiculous. Just because he leaves my bed, that does not mean he was dissatisfied or upset with me. He certainly wasn’t last night.”

She rang for her maid and began her ablutions, and when her maid came in to greet her, Sansa asked immediately if she knew where Jon was. 

“He was called to the stables this morning, mi’lady – er, miss,” Mary told her. “His horse had gotten out and was giving the stable master a right hard time about going back in.”

Relief coursed through Sansa, though she didn’t like to admit to herself that she had still wondered at his absence. While she knew it was customary for a husband and wife to not actually share the same bed for the entire night, she remembered her parents always had and so did Robb and Talisa. Would she and Jon have that kind of marriage? Did she want to? Was it perhaps best that he hadn’t so she could ready herself for the day in peace? Although she had though last night how nice it would be to awaken in his arms just as she had fallen asleep in them…

Sansa sat down at her vanity and Mary came over to tend to her hair. “And where did my husband go after he brought Orion back into his stall?”

“He took breakfast, miss, and then retired to his study. He’s been there for quite a while.”

Sansa nodded. Should she see him? Or should she wait for him to seek her out? She knew that when Robb was working on accounts and the like for the house, he didn’t like to be disturbed. Not that that ever stopped her or Talisa when they had need of him, but perhaps Jon was different. Perhaps he truly did want to be left alone. 

Once Sansa was ready for the day, and had broken her fast with some toast and tea, she wondered at what to do. She wanted to go home and see her brother and Talisa, but she didn’t know if she should. Would Jon have need of her? Would he care if she left? 

She paced in the drawing room while considering her options when the housekeeper came in. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Snow,” Mrs. Reynolds greeted her. “I was hoping we could chat about the running of the house.”

Oh yes, that’s right. She had a house to see to now. Sansa sat down. “Of course.”

There wasn’t much to discuss seeing as how Mrs. Reynolds did seem to have everything well in hand. Mainly, they spoke about menu options. Jon’s pallet was rather simple and, well, boring, and Sansa liked to try new things. For that, Mrs. Reynolds took her downstairs to meet with the cook. 

After that business was over, Sansa and Mrs. Reynolds returned to the drawing room. 

“Mrs. Reynolds,” Sansa began. “Might I ask your opinion on something of a somewhat…delicate nature?”

The other woman looked a bit surprised, but then nodded. “I don’t see why not, miss. You’ve been coming to this house for years. I’d like to think I know you almost as well as Mr. Snow.”

Sansa bit her lip. “How should I proceed with Mr. Snow? That is to say, do you think I should leave him be while he works in his study or should I…visit him?”

Mrs. Reynolds looked as though she was trying not to smile. “I would think that Mr. Snow would like to see his new bride.”

Sansa felt a blush coming on. Goodness, she’d never felt so out to sea. This marriage business was work! “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“Of course, miss.” 

The housekeeper left and Sansa decided that despite the fact that she felt a tad bit nervous about interrupting Jon – not because she thought he’d be angry with her, but because, well, she felt a tad shy after what they’d done last night. It was perhaps an oddity considering what he’d done to her before they were wed, but she still felt odd about it. 

She would much rather prefer to take Artemis for a ride to visit Robb and Talisa. 

“Bloody hell, Sansa, you’re no shrinking violet,” she muttered to herself and then marched out of the drawing room, down the hall, and down to Jon’s study.

She rapped on the door and when she heard Jon call out, “Come in!” she did just that. He was at his desk, hunched over some papers. When he saw her he smiled immediately and started to stand. She held out her hands to stop him and he frowned and sat back. 

“I just wanted to bid you good morning, Jon,” she said. “I’m up and ready for the day as you can see. I’ve spoken to Mrs. Reynolds about the housekeeping, and I’ve spoken to the cook about the menu because I am not going to eat the same foods every day as you do, Jon.”

“That’s fine, Sansa,” he chuckled. He started to get up again.

“No, don’t get up, there’s no need. I didn’t mean to interrupt you, I just asked Mrs. Reynolds if I should and she said yes, but I see that you’re busy so I think I might just go home for a while and – honestly, Jon, I told you not to bother getting up—”

But he had. And then he was kissing her, effectively cutting her off. His hands rested on her waist as he pulled her against him. “Sweetling, don’t say you’re going home. You are home.”

A bit breathless from his kiss, she shrugged. “I suppose that will take some time to get used to.”

“You can visit me any time in here, Sansa,” he murmured. He turned her around and walked her backwards and Sansa looked over her shoulder at where he was pushing her. She looked back at him and narrowed her eyes. “What are you about, Jon Snow?”

“I’m about to make love to my wife,” he murmured and kissed her just as he lifted her and placed her on top of his desk. 

Sansa’s arms went around him instinctively. “I’m not sure this is proper,” she whispered as Jon pulled up her skirts. 

“Do you know that I’ve been in here for hours and barely got any work done?” he muttered as he pulled down her pantalets. 

“This isn’t going to help you get anything done,” she told him. 

He laughed and kissed her. “Maybe it will help me focus because all I’ve been doing is sitting here and thinking about last night. About how I want inside you again.”

He rubbed at her core and Sansa jerked and whimpered. “Oh, Jon…”

“That’s my sweet girl,” Jon muttered and quickly undid his trousers and pushed them down. “Now that I’ve had you, Sansa, I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough.”

He pulled her legs up to wind around him and then pushed his way inside her slowly. They both shared a groan and then Jon began to move. He put one hand in the center of her back and pushed her against his chest as he kissed her. The other hand was at her waist. “I love you,” he whispered. 

Sansa grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him as she felt that delicious tight feeling inside her about ready to release again. Jon kissed her deeply, hungrily, and she responded to him in kind. This was passion, she realized. The passion that she had heard whispered about at balls behind fans and in dark corners. 

Feeling bold, Sansa undid his jacket and then his vest, followed by his shirt. She splayed her hands inside, feeling his bare skin under her hands, how his muscles flexed and jerked under her touch. He groaned and thrust harder and faster. 

“I love it when you touch me,” he growled. “Don’t ever stop. I’m all yours to touch and explore. Any time you want.”

Feeling even bolder she bent her head and licked at his nipple the way he had done to her before. He cried out and dug his hands in her hair. “My God, you’re going to make me burst into flames.”

She smiled and then licked the other one and he grunted. She felt his hand on her that special spot again and she sucked in a breath and looked up at him. 

Jon pressed his forehead to hers. “Come for me, Sansa. Come, please!”

She did, and then he followed. She clung to him, arms wrapped right around him as they both came down from their high. 

“Oh, but I knew it would be like this,” Jon breathed. “My perfect wife.”

She laughed at that. “I am not perfect, Jon.”

He pulled back and looked at her, brow arched. “Do you really believe that?”

She grinned. “Well, close to perfect at least. It makes me sound humble when I say I am not.”

Jon laughed and kissed her again. “No one is perfect, my love. But you are perfect for me.”

 _And I think_ , she thought dazedly, _that you might just be correct._


	18. Chapter 18

“Let’s go on a honeymoon,” Jon said a few nights later after they’d made love. 

Sansa could barely even think after what they’d just done. She pulled the sheet up over her and looked at him. “Pardon?”

He grinned and rolled onto to his side, pulling the sheet back down and cupping a breast in his hand. “I said, let’s go on a honeymoon. We never planned one. Where would you like to go?”

Sansa’s breath hitched in her throat when Jon started to rub his thumb back and forth across her nipple. She wanted to push his hand away, and yet she didn’t want him to stop. Perhaps, though, she could tease him too…

She reached out started to run her fingers up and down his arm; the arm attached to the hand that was currently groping her. His movements stilled and his eyes darkened. “Where would you like to go?” she asked. 

“I could happily spend days in this bed and never leave the bedchamber, but I realize my dream honeymoon might not be yours.”

Sansa felt her cheeks redden despite the fact that they had made love every night (and sometimes during the day) since they’d wed. Despite how scandalous it was to make love during the day, Sansa would come up with some excuse to interrupt him while at work in the hopes that he would make love to her. 

He never disappointed. He was as eager as she was. 

She was beginning to think herself quite wanton, but she found she didn’t quite care. She loved her hus…band. She stopped moving her fingers up and down his arm and her breath caught. 

“Sansa?”

She loved him. She loved Jon. When had this happened? Was it just lust? 

“Sweetling?”

She looked at him, at his beautiful handsome face, those eyes that were also so warm and inviting and that mouth that did such delicious things to her. 

Then there was his heart. His kindness. His patience. His strength. This marriage was not at all how she thought it would be – at least not so far. They didn’t bicker as she thought they would – unless one counted that morning when she’d gotten upset with him for drinking the last of the chocolate. But she didn’t. Because she’d learned from watching Talisa and Robb that these things happened. 

And she wasn’t bored of him, either. Quite the contrary. Just yesterday when she’d gone to visit Robb and Talisa, she actually found she’d missed him. When she returned home she had to restrain herself from running to him. And that night, before bed, when they’d played chess together, he had made her laugh until her sides had hurt. 

Then he’d taken her to bed and made her laugh there too. Who knew one could laugh and make love?

She loved him. She was in love with Jon! 

Oh, God. This meant she would worry about him just as she and Talisa would worry about Robb when he occasionally had business to tend to in London. Now she was beset with concerns such as his mortality – what would she do if something happened to him? 

What would she have done had he not accepted her shoddy proposal? Or never forgiven her for said shoddy proposal? What would she have done had he went away as she’d pushed him to and found another woman to marry? What would she have done if another woman got to experience his passion, feel his love, and have that mouth working on her and she had missed out completely?

She realized now that it wasn’t that she thought they were terribly unsuited for another. It was that she had been a coward. Jon Snow had always made her feel something close to recklessness. Not in a harmful way, but in such a way in which she was not always so…in control. And Sansa liked being in control. 

Just the thought of some other woman experiencing all the delights of Jon that she was currently experiencing… 

She burst into tears. 

“Sansa, what is wrong?!” Jon asked urgently and moved his hand to the side of her face. “Sweetling, please talk to me.”

“What if you had married someone else?” she asked through her tears as she rolled onto her back. 

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“What if you made some other woman laugh or they got your mouth and not me?”

He looked utterly bewildered. 

“What’ll I do if you ever get hurt? What’ll I do if you die before me?”

“Am I going to die soon?”

“No! But it will happen one day, we all have to go at some point, Jon!”

“Where is this coming from?” Jon asked as he moved closer to her. 

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “I just realized that I love you.”

His eyes widened and he leaned down to caress the side of her face and wipe away her tears. “Sweetling, that is the best news I’ve heard in…well, it’s the best news I’ve ever heard. Why is it distressing you so?”

“Because I could have lost you!”

“Never,” he murmured. “I would never have given up on you.”

“But you might have grown tired of waiting and found someone else.”

“No, Sansa. There is no one else for me. To even try would have been lying to them and to myself. If you had never agreed to marry me, I just wouldn’t have married at all.”

“But then you would have been alone...and I wouldn’t want you to ever be unhappy. Even if I would have wanted to claw her eyes out.”

Jon laughed. 

“I want to say that if anything happens to me you should remarry—”

“Sansa, don’t talk like that,” he said a bit harshly. 

“But I’m just saying that if anything should happen, I want you to be happy, but I’m just not quite ready to tell you to marry someone else if you wanted to. Is that all right?”

“You love me,” he said and kissed her sweetly. “You’ve given me the world. Now just say it for me, love.”

She smiled up at him and wound her arms around his neck as he climbed over her. “I love you, Jon.”

“I feel like I’ve waited my whole life to hear you say that.”

“Don’t make me feel even worse!”

He laughed and kissed her again and again until they were both breathless and he was hard again. “I want you again.”

“I know,” she said. “I can feel it.”

He grinned and began to kiss his way down her body, but then Sansa put her hand on his shoulder and said, “Jon, wait.”

He paused, looking up at her from around her belly. “What is it?”

“I wondered if the thing you do with your mouth on me? If I can do that to you? If it’s possible…?”

He groaned and dropped his head. “It is very possible.”

“Will you help me then?”

He lifted his head. “Have I mentioned today how you’re my perfect woman?”

“No, but it’s understandable. I snapped at you this morning when you drank the rest of the chocolate before I could get my second cup.”

He chuckled and moved so that he was on his side again. Sansa rolled to face him and bit her lip as Jon moved the sheet away from them both. She shivered slightly and Jon frowned. “Are you cold, sweetling?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “No, just nervous I suppose.” She looked down at his cock (that’s what he called it), hard and long and…pointing at her. She reached out and ran her fingers down it and he jerked slightly. He moaned and she looked up at him, gauging his reaction. His gaze was heated as he took her hand and curled her fingers around his cock. 

“Stroke me,” he said with a grunt. “Please.”

She did as he instructed and moved her hand up and down his length once he moved his hand away. “Like this?” she murmured. 

“Yes,” he breathed. “A little harder.”

She did as he instructed and became fascinated by watching his reaction to her touch and how his cock felt in her hand. Hard, yet smooth, and hot. 

Curious for more exploration, Sansa slid further down the bed. “Lay on your back please, Jon,” she said and he did as she asked. She straddled his legs and grasped his cock in her hands again. 

“Bloody hell, Sansa,” she heard him whisper. 

She licked her lips and then, still grasping his cock, put her mouth around it and swished her tongue back and forth over the tip. His hips jerked, sending more of him into her mouth, and he swore. Sansa, hadn’t been prepared for more of him in her mouth, but she figured she would work with what she had. It made sense to move her head back, so she did. And then down again. Back and forth she went. 

“Suck on the head, love, please,” Jon grunted. 

Now she got it. When she pulled her head back, she sucked on the head. Down, back, suck, down, back, suck…never let it be said that Sansa wasn’t a quick study. She was engrossed with what she was doing, listening to Jon moan and groan, until his hand came down on her shoulder. She looked up at him in question, letting his cock go with one last suck. 

“I want inside you,” he gasped and reached for her. “I want you to ride me.”

“Tell me how,” she said. 

“Straddle me,” he said. “Put your sweet cunt over my cock and then ease down on it.”

“Oh! I can do that,” she muttered and Jon laughed and then groaned when she was over him. She put her hands on his chest for leverage and he gripped her hips as he looked up at her heatedly. 

“Now, Sansa,” he said desperately. 

Sansa eased down on his cock and held her breath at the feeling of him sliding back inside her. She watched him intently, loving how he shut his eyes rapturously. Once he was seated inside her, she let out a long slow breath and then moved up. 

“Sansa,” Jon gasped as he looked up at her reverently. 

“Mmmm…” Sansa hummed as his cock hit just the right spot…

At first she moved slowly, getting used to the position, to where she should hold her weight, but then once she was certain how this worked, she began to go faster. That coil tightened within her and she went faster still. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl, my Sansa,” Jon muttered. He sat up, surprising her and suckled a nipple into his mouth. 

Sansa moaned and felt it right down to her cunt, which she felt flex around him. He groaned and suckled on the other nipple. Her cunt squeezed him again and Jon looked up at her, putting his hands over her bum. “Fuck me, Sansa, that’s my girl...my beautiful wife.”

“Jon, I’m going to…!”

“I know, sweetling, come for me, come on…”

She cried out as she slammed down on him. Jon lay back and pulled her with him so that she was flat against his chest. He kissed her as he lifted his hips and thrust up inside her fast and hard until he cried out as he reached his crisis. 

Sansa slumped against him, not caring how their bodies were slick with sweat. She burrowed her head right under his chin and hummed in contentment when he wound his arms around her. She pressed a kiss to his chest. “I love you,” she murmured. 

“Look at me, sweetling.” She lifted her head to look at him and he framed her face with his hands and kissed her passionately. He then rolled them so that she was on her back. 

“Did I do all right then?” she asked. 

He groaned and kissed her again. “You did perfectly.”

“You’ll let me know how I might improve my…technique?”

“I think if you improve any more you just might kill me.”

“I don’t wish to kill you,” she said slowly, as she ran a hand along his face. “But I do wish to render you completely undone…”

“You’ve been doing that since the day of your come out ball.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “Since then?”

He nodded. “It’s when I knew I loved you at least.”

“I should have made Robb be the Highway Man that stole me away, and you the one that saved me when we were kids,” she told him, smiling when he nuzzled his face into her palm. 

“Perhaps we can do a version of that, just without Robb…”

Her brows went up. “Oh?”

He smiled. “Let me tell you about the games people sometimes play in the bedchamber…”

“I think you’ve the right idea about staying in here for our honeymoon. I think there is much for me to learn that you will have to teach me.”

He kissed her again. “Yes, see? Perfect woman for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter...


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone, for coming along on this journey with me! It was fun!

**One Year Later**

Jon frowned as he watched his wife take a turn about the ball room with the newly engaged Theon Greyjoy. She hadn’t been feeling well as of late and Jon hadn’t been sure going through with the ball was the best plan. 

However, you could not tell Sansa that. Not when she had planned the entire event. She had looked at him quite sternly, almost angrily, when he’d suggested canceling it and pointed at him. “We are having this ball, Jon. I worked hard to put it together and I will not cancel it, do you understand me?”

Knowing how much work she put into planning the ball, Jon didn’t bring it up again. 

When Theon returned Sansa to Jon’s side, Jon noticed how pale she appeared despite the rousing dance. There was also a fine sheen of sweat on her brow. 

“Sweetling, I think you need to sit down for a bit,” Jon told her gently. 

“Nonsense,” she said. “I want to dance again. Will you oblige me?”

He frowned. “Sansa, you haven’t been feeling well for the past two weeks, and despite the fact that I did not want you to over exert yourself by continuing with this ball, I agreed to let you have it. Now I would like to ask you to do something for me and sit down.”

“No,” she said stubbornly. “This is my last ball and I mean to enjoy it.”

“What do you mean your last ball?” Jon demanded. 

She ignored him though and went up to her brother and Talisa who were coming toward them. A second later, Robb was escorting his sister onto the dance floor while Talisa came to stand beside Jon. 

“You look displeased, Jon,” Talisa said. 

Jon’s brow furrowed as he watched Sansa and Robb dance. Was it him or did Sansa look a bit green? “My wife is determined to drive me around the bend,” he muttered. 

Talisa laughed softly and Jon shot her a look which only made Talisa laugh harder. “She does have a knack for it, doesn’t she?” Talisa asked. 

“Mmmm. I think she enjoys it, too.”

“When she is consciously doing it at least. Sometimes Sansa just doesn’t think things through.”

Jon knew that all too well. He still remembered when they’d gone to London for a few weeks so Jon could spoil her at the dressmakers, the jewelers, and the theater, and she’d run into Jaime Lannister one night at the opera. She hadn’t told him until the next morning when she’d received a note from him and had to explain herself. 

“It was a lark that I saw him,” Sansa had told him. 

“I was not under the impression you’d planned to run into him, Sansa,” Jon had told her, trying his best to reign in his jealousy and his temper. “I was just hoping he was out of our lives for good seeing as how that investigator Robb hired informed us he had to marry that poor woman he’d left after having gotten her pregnant.”

“He is out of our lives for good,” she’d told him and climbed onto his lap. He’d calmed somewhat then. “He apologized last night for how he’d run off. It was as we suspected – he feared he’d be forced to marry me and since he already had one trouble on his hands…”

“His own fault, mind you,” Jon had muttered. 

“Of course, but nonetheless I forgave him. And this note just says he thanks me for it. I didn’t tell you about it last night because I knew how you’d react if I did. You would have wanted to go find him. I thought it best to enjoy the opera with my husband. ” She’d held out the note to him. “Do you want to read it?”

He’d taken the note and crumpled it in his hand. Then he’d kissed her and proceeded to make love to her in the study. He made her promise after that if she ran into Jaime Lannister again, she had to tell him. She’d agreed. 

Jon tracked the movements of his wife and when he saw her put her hand to her mouth and then rush off the dance floor with Robb chasing after her, Jon sprang into action. Talisa followed. 

Sansa ran down the hall to the study with Jon, Talisa, and Robb on her heels. She sat down upon the chaise and bent over, putting her head between her legs as he’d taught her to do during a dizzy spell once. Jon sat down beside her and rubbed her back. “That’s it, Sansa. You’re done for the evening. You’re going up to bed and I’m kicking everyone out.”

She sat up and looked at him, her cheeks a bit red now. “No, Jon, you can’t!”

“Yes, I very well can! My wife is sick and I’m tired of you telling me that it will pass. I’m calling for the doctor tonight and that’s it.”

“Jon, you don’t need to call the doctor,” Sansa said softly. “I’ve already seen him.”

“Are you all right, Sansa?” Robb asked worriedly. 

Sansa looked at Talisa who nodded and pulled a concerned Robb from the room. Jon’s heart thudded hard in his chest. “Sansa, you said this was to be your last ball. What does that mean?” he asked and gripped her arms. “Are you…what is…are you…?” He hung his head. “I can’t even say it!”

“Oh my! It didn’t occur to me that you would think – Jon, I’m not _dying_. I met with the doctor last week while you and Robb went into town. I’m with child.”

He looked up at her, his eyes going wide. “You’re – you’re pregnant?”

She nodded. “That’s why I have been ill. That’s why I wanted to have this ball tonight. I know it will be my last for a while and I wanted to enjoy it. Plus, I knew if I told you I was pregnant, you’d cancel it immediately and I didn’t want that.”

Jon took her face in his hands. “We’re going to have a baby?” 

She smiled and nodded. 

Jon laughed joyously and then began peppering her face with kisses while murmuring, “I love you” over and over again. 

Sansa laughed and put her hands on his chest to stop him. He looked at her in awe and she smiled at him. “I take it you’re happy?” she asked. 

“I want a little girl who looks just like you. And I want boy who looks just like you, too,” he said. 

She laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You were right about the ball though,” he said. He glanced to the door. “I’m sending them all home and taking my wife to bed.”

“Jon!”

“To _rest_ , Sansa,” he said. 

She pouted and he grinned. “Though, if you are feeling up to it I could do something to help you relax…”

She beamed at him and then frowned. “I don’t want to send everyone home, though I do feel rather tired….”

“Say no more. Robb and Talisa can finish out the night in our stead. You and I are going to up to bed to rest…among other things.”

Sansa blushed and kissed him. “I love you, Jon.”

He drew her close and wrapped her up in his arms. She nestled right into him. “You have made me the happiest of men, Sansa,” he murmured. “You’ve made my every dream come true. I love you.”


End file.
